Halfway There
by Ardespuffy
Summary: Because Bakugou doesn't do romance. And Todoroki doesn't do things halfway.
1. Chapter 1

_DISCLAIMER:_ I don't own _Boku No Hero Academia_. You don't say.

* * *

The first time it happens, he's too engrossed in the heat of the race to label it properly.

He vaguely remembers thinking that Todoroki's arms felt way more toned than it was reasonable to expect given his pussy-like fighting style; but that's about it, really. No sparks, no butterflies and certainly none of that skipping a heartbeat bullshit that fucking Deku claims to have felt the first time he spoke to Uraraka-chan on the phone.

Anyone who'd known Bakugou Katsuki for as long as twenty seconds would tell you he wouldn't be caught dead admitting to such girlish crap anyway.

But – and here's the catch.

Somehow _it_ … still happens.

Later, Bakugou would pin it down to the adrenaline that fucking obstacle race had instilled in him. Getting so close, _so close_ to the finish line, just to have it all taken away by fucking _Deku_ of all people… Anyone would be affected by something like that, right? Well, admittedly maybe not exactly the way Bakugou himself had been affected, but he _is_ known to be a passionate individual after all. The blond keeps rolling the statement in his mind, as he alternates between furiously banging his head against his bedroom's door and pulling his hard as a rock dick in almost vicious tugs, desperate to blow off at least part of the steam that has been boiling inside of him the whole day.

What could any of this have to do with _Todoroki Shouto_ , though, is anyone's guess.

Bakugou himself does not think much of it, if anything at all, until _it_ happens again.

* * *

It's the final stage of the sodding sport festival, and fate decided to spit in his face once more by putting him up against some irritating nobody while Deku gets to face the fucking star of the festival, the prodigy, son of none other than n. 2 hero Endeavor. Bakugou chews on his outrage as he pulverizes Uraraka without so much as breaking a sweat – and that truly is saying something considering his Quirk, he humorlessly muses. How come that some good-for-nothing brat who didn't even have a Quirk for the better part of his life is drawing so much attention to himself, while he, Bakugou Katsuki, the legendary king of explosions, hasn't even been able to win a single stage of this stupid competition yet?

But it's not all Midoriya's fault, the bomber realizes while marching down the hallway headed for his waiting room.

It's that _other_ kid.

That stupid, melodramatic half-'n-half who turned his fight against Deku into such a big deal their match practically ruined the audience for any other.

If Todoroki hadn't been such a fucking crybaby about his Quirk, Bakugou ponders as he kicks the waiting room door open, his battle with Deku would have been far less spectacular, and he, Bakugou Katsuki, ranked 1st in the Yuuei entry test, would have gotten the credit he rightly deserved.

Well, now.

Speak of the devil.

"The fuck are you doing here, Half-'n-Half?"

Even his face is infuriating, Bakugou muses as he yells at his soon-to-be adversary. Todoroki sits quietly at the table, seemingly absorbed in deep thought, and barely acknowledges his presence. Surely, he must be still mourning over his pathetic existence as shown to him by that insufferable Deku, whom now he even thinks he _owes_ … Bakugou feels the blood rise to his head as one thought surfaces in his mind, clouding his judgement and drowning his vision in red.

He doesn't give a shit about Todoroki, but damn him if he'd ever come second to Deku in anyone's eyes.

Sure enough, the moment Midoriya's name leaves Todoroki's lips Bakugou loses it entirely. He takes out his rage and frustration on the innocent table, while shouting at the bewildered prodigy to stop, _stop it_ , stop looking right through him, as if he didn't exist, _as if_ …

When he retreats to his assigned waiting room, he's positively fuming.

Damn half-'n-half freak. How dare he get distracted by that useless flea right before his battle vs the one and only Bakugou Katsuki? His boot-clad foot smashing repeatedly against the edge of yet another poor table, the blond hisses through gritted teeth. This goddamn sport festival is a complete joke anyway. A chair is knocked over with unwarranted force. Like any competition worthy of the name could ever see _Midoriya Izuku_ winning over him! The door hinges creak pitifully as a vicious fist slams into the adjacent wall. Oh, but they will fucking see! The students, the teachers, the audience – a brutal kick sends the table flying to the floor – and _he_ above all, stupid, stuck-up, half-freak daddy boy – an All Might poster comes off the quivering wall, fluttering like a white flag in the wind – _fucking asshole_ , Todoroki…

That's when it dawns on him.

His whole body shaking with aggravation, Bakugou slumps against the nearest wall. The blond bomber takes a minute to contemplate the utter mess the waiting room has become; then his gaze falls down to the tented crotch of his uniform pants.

 _Not again, dammit._

Seriously, what's with him and rage-induced boners these days? Granted, his sensual awakening as you may call it had happened long before he joined Yuuei, but the rate and, well, intensity of his private moments have gone up dramatically as of late – as have his fits of anger. It almost feels like the worse his temper gets, the more attention his body demands.

 _Is this even a thing? Like, scientifically…_

Screw science. Bakugou groans in annoyance and palms his erect manhood through the blue fabric, eyes fixed on the clock on the opposite wall. He still has a couple minutes before the fight that will meticulously obliterate Todoroki Shouto from the face of Earth. Might as well try to get his mind off things for a while.

Except all the images that flash behind his half-closed eyelids as he dips his right hand into his pants and starts gingerly stroking are bathed in a disturbing red and white shade. Try as he may, thoughts of the annoying ice jerk won't leave him alone. What's most troubling is, that's not affecting his prominent arousal in the slightest.

Alright, Bakugou will concede: being 16, hardly anything can turn him off these days. He would expect his very male nemesis to be one of those things, though.

 _Wait a minute._ The blond frowns, his wrist movements slowing down a tad as the most alarming thought as yet creeps its way into his lust-addled brain. When did he start to think of Todoroki as his nemesis, again? Since he was a fucking child, it had always been…

Unsurprisingly, the mere thought of Deku is enough to get his boner to falter. _As it should be._ Sex fantasies and Midoriya would never, ever cross his mind at the same time. _Hughhh, jeez._

Grimacing at his own train of thought, Bakugou picks up the pace of his stroking, trying to bring the mortifying task to completion before some teacher has to send word for him. Searching his brain for some helpful bits of memories – that time after class when he'd almost, almost caught a glimpse of Yaoyorozu's left boob jutting out from her tank top – proves futile though, as the only images flooding his inner eye seem to be in all 50 fucking shades of red and white, again.

Todoroki running up to Deku, frost forming on his right check, his breath labored and mis-matched eyes sparkling with resolve.

The sheer, unadulterated will to prevail in his expression as flames ingulfed his left side for the first time.

And the words he spoke.

 _"_ _I will be a hero too!"_

Biting hard on his bottom lip to muffle any impending sound, Bakugou pumps his dick harder and faster, till orgasm shocks through him like lightning and he ends up emptying himself all over the tiled floor.

His shoulders sag as he lets out a long, shaky breath.

This is going to be one hell of an interesting fight.

* * *

How dare he.

How dare he do this to him.

Bakugou buries his face in the pillow he's spent the last forty minutes beating to a pulp. There are wet trails on the pillow case where tears have stained it. He never knew one could actually cry out of rage, until this very moment.

The lamp on the nightstand casts its dim light on the hideous piece of metal lying on the floor beside the bed. Some medal that was. He'd sooner swallow it whole than wear it proudly on his chest, as everyone from Class I-A seems to believe he ought to. Of course they couldn't understand. In their small, miserable, pathetic lives a win was "still a win", as they'd put it when Bakugou had regained consciousness in the infirmary bed and cried out his outrage for the lame outcome of the sport festival.

That fucking half-'n-half will pay for this.

The bedsheets rustle as Bakugou curls up in a ball, eyes scrunched tight with no hope for rest. The words All Might had spoken at the awarding ceremony earlier that day replay in his mind, sounding hollower by the minute.

 _"_ _Think of your medal as a scar, and never forget about this day."_

Easy for him to say. What would the n.1 hero know about humiliation anyway? Tears of frustration well up in his eyes again, stinging like that gnawing, dark feeling at the pit of his stomach that keeps him from getting any sleep.

Todoroki can't get away with it.

Bakugou sits up abruptly. He's been going around in circles, looking for a way to let out his frustration and despair – when, really, it was so simple all along. He'll feel much better knowing he's not the only one up with stormy thoughts in the dead of night.

* * *

As an old time tradition, Yuuei students are given the opportunity to choose whether to stay at home during the 3-year course or move to the school dorm. Most 1st-years are usually enthralled with the perspective of living their first real life experience as grownups, but many end up homesick before first term is over.

Given his family situation, Todoroki Shouto is quite unlikely to go home anytime soon. Bakugou is pretty damn sure he's not even leaving for the 2-day vacation the school is having to let everyone recover from the whole festival fuss. He had briefly considered going back himself – it would be kinda nice to see his folks and his old room – but the overly enthusiastic phone call he'd got from Mitsuki right after the awarding ceremony had quickly changed his mind. God knows the last thing he needs right now is to be complimented on that sorry excuse for a victory, or, even worse, to go over every detail of the match with his mum pointing out all the parts where her son had sworn or been rude to his friends in any way.

Bakugou stomps down the hallway, wanting to make his presence known. He doesn't give a crap about the others' beauty sleep anyway. If he can't get any shut-eye, it's only fair the rest of the world shouldn't either.

Todoroki's room is a couple doors down, at the farther end of the corridor. Bakugou is not sure how he even possesses this bit of information, since he has never felt the desire to pursue any kind of relation with Endeavor's son. It does come in handy now, however, as he halts in front of the jerk's door. Anticipation runs through him in tiny shockwaves that leave him tingling all over. Time for a wake-up call that'll ruin Todoroki's chances at going back to sleep for the rest of the night, if he's in luck.

The bomber bangs his clenched fist on the door. Once, twice, with intention. _Not going away 'til I kick your stupid ass into next week._

He's seconds away from blowing up the sodding door with his Quirk when the lock comes off and Todoroki appears, a white ghost against the dark inside of the bedroom.

"Bakugou? What are you doing here?"

He's even paler than usual, Bakugou half-mindedly notices, as he shoves him aside to make his way into the room. He can tell his goal is at least partially reached, as Todoroki had clearly been asleep. He must have sprung out of bed, too, if the sheets tangled on the floor are any indication. A satisfied smirk arches his lips, but it's gone before he even turns around to face the other boy. "What do you think, idiot?" When no reaction comes, the blond adds in a low hiss. "Thought I'd give you a piece of my mind after the shit you pulled today."

Todoroki rests his back against the door, closing it behind them. His eyes darken a shade or two at the words, but his voice is steady and quiet as he replies. "I know you're upset. For what it's worth, I never meant to humiliate you. It wasn't personal."

Blood instantly rushing to his head, Bakugou grabs the other by the white collar of his pajama shirt. "You got to be shitting me." He jostles Todoroki up against the doorframe, hands shaking with aggravation.

The half-'n-half holds his stare, unfazed. "I merely told you the truth. What happened at the final had nothing to do with you. I wasn't feeling well after my fight with Midoriya and got overwhelmed, is all."

"Don't you dare – " Bakugou heaves, his knuckles turning white. It takes him all of his willpower not to crush the bastard's halved head into the wall right now. "Don't you fucking dare bring that loser up now. This is between you and me, get it, asshole?"

Todoroki's eyes narrow to slits as he lifts his arms to cover up the bomber's hands with his own. He squeezes Bakugou's wrists warningly. "Let go of me now."

"Or else? You won't fight me anyway, will ya?" The bomber grins maniacally, not loosening his grip. "You'll only get serious 'round that fucking nerd… I'm not worth your time, am I, princess?" Bakugou spits on the ground, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "Daddy must be so proud of his little pussy of a son…"

A sudden breeze is all the warning Bakuou gets before his fingers go rigid and numb around the fabric of Todoroki's shirt. _Hit a nerve there, huh?_ "You really believe I'm afraid of this all-powerful Quirk of yours?" He yanks the slightly taller boy down, bringing him closer. "Think I don't know how to counter it by now? If I stick to you like this…", Bakugou presses their bodies flush together in demonstration, "… you can't turn me into a popsicle without freezing to death yourself. And since you won't use your left side to warm up, you can't do shit to me from this position." He scoots even closer to whisper the final words directly in Todoroki's ear. "While I can blow you up by snapping my fingers, if I feel like it."

He's having the fucking time of his life. Pinning Todoroki to the wall, having him shake with rage and frustration, helpless and mortified like he'd made Bakugou feel in the morning. _What goes around…_

Suddenly, the icy wave threatening his wrists subsides. "If you came in here to get back at me for the festival, go ahead. I won't stop you, if it'll make you feel any better."

Todoroki's steely voice matches the bitterness in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably in Bakugou's grasp; then, seeing it won't relent, gives him a lopsided smirk that stirs something inside the blond. "Is this really the kind of hero you wish to become? To think you look up to All Might, of all people…"

"Leave All Might out of this." Bakugou replies mechanically. What is the idiot playing at? What's with the fucking condescension now, as if what he'd done to him in the morning was not enough to get on Bakugou's bad side for the rest of their lives. His voice lowers to a growl. "You really piss me off, fucking Half-'n-Half." He brings their noses closer together, with half a mind to spit directly in the other's scarred face. "I should crush you right here and now…"

Todoroki tilts his head backwards, raising his chin in a defiant pose that drives Bakugou insane. "I'd like to see you try."

Their eyes lock, killing intent radiating off their bodies. Bakugou can tell the other is dying to use his Quirk and is only waiting for him to put some distance between them. _Like hell._ He's feeling quite comfortable pushed up against Todoroki's oddly sculpted torso, their arms trapped between their chests and legs entangled to keep their balance. A surge of heat runs through his body, the feeling of dominance intoxicating his very senses.

And then _it_ happens.

It's barely noticeable, really, just a short-lived twitch in his pants. But from where they're standing now, their nether regions pressed flush together, there's no way Todoroki could miss it.

 _Holy…_

The telltale blush that blooms on Bakugou's cheeks seals his fate. He can see Todoroki's eyes widen slightly as confusion gives way to understanding. The half-'n-half's jaw slackens, the parting of his lips suggesting he may be about to say something. Bakugou decides against taking his chances and lets go of him hastily.

"Stay outta my way, you piece of shit." The blond murmurs gruffly, looking everywhere but at the other boy. Then he runs for the door, slams it behind him and bolts down the corridor, only stopping to breathe again when he's back in the safety of his own bedroom.

 _Shit._

He's just blown it completely, and his Quirk had nothing to do with it.

* * *

 **A/N** ** If you made it this far, why hello, my wonderful reader! This is my first attempt at a BNHA fanfic, so I'll get a few things straight before we continue. As you may have noticed, in this story the Yuuei Academy has got a hall of residence for students in all years, and most of our beloved characters are living on school grounds. There might be other minor changes in the future, but I intend on staying true to the original story as far as possible.

On a side note, I haven't been writing fanfics for a very long time (I might also be kinda too old for this now, ahem), so please go easy on me! *bats lashes* Any comment is appreciated, but the good ones literally make my week.

Next update coming up shortly, because I just have to get this story out of my system. Damn these two kids, really.**


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Todoroki is not at the cafeteria for breakfast. Which Bakugou doesn't notice at all, since he's not looking for the infuriating red-and-white head anyway, thank you very much.

He's not looking for Todoroki as he happens to stroll by the swimming pool and peek inside the boys changing rooms. _Not here._

He's still not looking for him when he searches the deserted labs where they have their theoretical classes together. _Not here either._

And he's sure as hell not looking for him when, after lunchtime comes and goes with no sign of Todoroki whatsoever, he ventures down the dormitory hallway and tiptoes all the way up to the half-'n-half's door.

Upon taking a cautious look around to make sure no-one's in sight, Bakugou presses his ear against the wooden panel and struggles to hear, only to realize there's no sound coming from the inside at all. He briefly contemplates his options. He's trying to decide if he's really above peeping through the keyhole after all, when the sound of footsteps directly behind him sends chills down his spine.

Who the hell could sneak up on him like that?

Bakugou spins around quickly enough to crane his neck, a curse ready to escape his lips. He barely swallows it as he takes in the figure right in front of him.

"A-Aizawa-sensei?"

"Yo, Bakugou." The Class 1-A head teacher raises one hand in a flippant hello. "You need something from Todoroki?"

The mere mention of the name that was plaguing his dreams all night is enough to have Bakugou avert his gaze and snarl in contempt. "What could I ever want from that idiot Half-'n-Half…"

Aizawa cocks his head to side, peering curiously at the fuming student through his bandages. His words come slow and deliberate when he speaks. "Anyway, in case you were wondering, he is not here at the moment."

 _Well, I noticed that much._ "Tch. The hell I care."

The professor sends him a meaningful look, which makes Bakugou feel as though he was standing stark naked on stage. "Whatever you say. May I suggest you go back to your business, then?"

With that he moves to walk away. And Bakugou knows, he _knows_ this is the time to leave it be and go back to his business, as Aizawa had put it. Thing is, he doesn't really have any business today other than racking his brain with thoughts of the infuriating ice boy, so he might as well put an end to his misery.

"Sensei…" His voice sounds hoarse to his own ears as he calls after the teacher. "Where'd he go?"

Eraser Head glances back at him over his shoulder, looking every bit like the self-assured, knowing bastard Bakugou knows him to be. "Todoroki filed a late request to leave, early this morning. He must have changed his mind about going home for the break, I suppose."

 _Hardly._ The fucking coward is just running away from him; Bakugou knows for certain he scared him shitless last night, if not quite for the reason he'd intended to.

"Oi, kiddo…"

His head shoots up, Aizawa's voice wrenching him away from his reverie. "I know you feel like your victory at the final didn't mean anything, but I truly believe you deserved to win. You worked hard throughout the whole festival. Don't let what happened with Todoroki take that away from you."

Bakugou clenches his fists and looks away. He can't bring himself to be grateful, and the head teacher should know better than to expect a thank you. "Next time…" He has to clear his throat to avoid rasping awkwardly. "Next time I'll show everyone I don't need any help to be number one."

Aizawa holds his stare and, for one moment, he looks like he's about to retort. In the end he just nods goodbye and walks off, leaving a trembling Bakugou behind.

* * *

The next day and a half go by uneventful. At daylight he trains, pushing himself hard to test and overcome the limits of his Quirk. The rest of the time he stays locked up in his room, studying for the written exams he knows his classmates have no idea are approaching. Good thing Kirishima has left for the break – Bakugou never seems to get any work done around the loud redhead.

Nights are a little bit trickier. At first he tries to keep busy by means of imagination, letting his mind go places he feels safe and comfortable in (an all-time personal favorite of his: How to destroy Deku's self-esteem in 7 simple remarks). It works just fine until exhaustion takes over and he starts drifting off. The moment he's succumbing to sleep he loses all control over his fantasies, and memories of what happened in Todoroki's room come waltzing in through the front door.

Just what the hell has gotten into him? Never before has he felt any sort of attraction to the same gender, and this is not going to change now. It's not that he's attracted to that scarred-faced bastard, Bakugou promptly corrects himself. His stupid dick just had to pick that of all moments to go and make things weird between him and his very male rival.

For that is all that Todoroki is to him. A rival. Someone to outdo at all costs, just like that stupid ass Deku.

Well, maybe not quite like Deku, he amends in an afterthought, since Endeavor's son at least possesses a Quirk he can use without making a complete fool of himself. His ability to adapt and assess situations also makes Todoroki a valuable opponent, and what he lacks in sheer combat skill, he more than makes up for with the range and speed of his ice attacks. Being undoubtedly smart, he can also adjust to his partners' different fighting styles, which makes him a good team player and an overall strong contender for the title of hero.

Now, see, that Bakugou would know this much is no wonder per se; after all, he's had plenty of time to study his fellow students, and it is said that the key to victory is knowing your enemy. What is somewhat off is that thoughts of Todoroki's strength would evoke such sensations in him, thrill him to the point of exhilaration – a strange, devastatingly powerful mix of fascination, jealousy, rage and ambition, culminating in the raw need to beat him, to _be_ him, be one with him, have him…

Here's the part where he invariably wakes up tangled in sticky sheets and curses his own existence.

He doesn't like where this is going, not one bit.

* * *

The first school day after a break always brings some kind of electricity about. There's this happy-go-lucky vibe down the hallways that Bakugou is not digging at all. Tired and cranky – he hasn't had what you'd call a good night's sleep in a while – he heads for the cafeteria, boots treading heavily and big, dark waves of revulsion radiating off his figure.

 _I swear to god, I will blow the next asshole who bumps me into oblivion._

Needless to say, the first person he happens to crash into upon entering the lunchroom is the very living being whose untimely demise he's been plotting these past couple of days.

"Watch your fucking…!" The curse dies out on his lips as red and white enter his vision. "Oi, Half-'n-Half!"

An apparently very well-rested Todoroki stands before him, that usually expressionless face of his vaguely verging on quizzical. " 'morning."

"Don't you fucking 'morning' me!" Bakugou barks, scaring some poor passing 1st-year away. "Where'd you run off to, huh?"

Teal and hazel eyes – seriously, what kind of fucked up combination is that… – go round with righteous bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

"Stop playing dumb with me, scum! You know you still owe me a fight – a real fight, this time."

He tries not to liquefy in outrage when Todoroki lets out an exasperated sigh and speaks very slowly, like he would to a child. "Bakugou, we've been over this. I'm sorry if it puts a damper on your vendetta, but the truth is I have no interest in fighting you."

 _No interest in…!_ He doesn't care if they're standing in the middle of the sodding cafeteria for the whole school to see; if the haughty bastard doesn't cut the holier-than-thou shit, Bakugou _will_ trample all over him.

"Hah! Because you're so good, right?" He takes a couple steps forward, his menacing stance drawing more eyes on them by the minute. Some fellow students in the background start whining about calling a teacher, but Bakugou will make sure to personally slaughter anyone who'd dare interrupt them right now. He's been anticipating this confrontation the whole goddamn weekend, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone get in the way.

He jabs Todoroki in the chest with his index and forefinger. "Well, lemme tell you something, daddy boy. With that half-assed Quirk you're not even using, I can take you on anytime and make you regret looking down on me for the rest of your life."

It's somewhat of a surprise when flames burst out of the taller boy's arm. "About that, you should probably know I'm not going to refrain from using my left side anymore."

Bakugou's eyes drift rapidly to meet Todoroki's, and he _sees_ it.

How could he not notice before? There's definitely something different about Endeavor's son, though he can't put his finger on what just yet. Not that it matters now; Bakugou is simply grateful for whatever made his rival grow a pair. He grins genuinely, his hand still resting against the other's chest. "Wouldn't have it any other way, jackass."

Todoroki holds his gaze, his left side still ablaze with flames that are not meant to harm. Even through his blasé disguise he looks changed, he _feels_ changed, Bakugou detects, all the while trying to figure whether he likes this new version better than the old one.

That's not to say he liked… oh, _what the hell._

This mere thought, this one bad detour his mind takes in the blink of an eye is enough to trigger a shift in the atmosphere. Bakugou is suddenly painfully aware of their close proximity and, unless he is imagining things, so's Todoroki. He can tell by the way the half-'n-half stiffens and takes one step backward, which results in him shying away from the bomber's touch. Something that's not entirely embarrassment flashes in those mismatched eyes, but Bakugou never gets the chance to elaborate on his impression.

"Hey, you two. Cut it out already, will you?"

It's that creepy dude from Class 1-C interrupting, the one who tried to beat Deku with that lame trick at the festival. Shinsou something. He's sitting at a table, surrounded by his fellow classmates who, for some reason, keep elbowing each other with big conspiratorial looks on their faces.

Bakugou understands the implications behind the scene one fraction of a second too late. "What's it to you, seaweed head?"

"Don't ans –!"

The warning dies on Todoroki's lips as Bakugou realizes his mistake.

"Easy now, tiger." A self-pleased smirk blooms on the Brainwasher's face as a now helpless bomber glares daggers at him, unable to speak. Cheers erupt from the Class 1-C table, Shinsou getting patted on the back by his peers like he's fucking hero of the day. "Looks like we're going to have some peace at last."

 _Kill him._

 _Kill him._

 _Gotta kill…_

Even amidst his blinding rage at being tamed like a goddamn puppy, Bakugou does not fail to notice Todoroki's reaction. The ice boy scowls deeply at Shinsou, the flames on his left side burning brighter for a moment. "You didn't have to do that."

"Be an angel and have a seat, will you." Shinsou commends – Bakugou feels his feet move on their own volition and crashes down in the nearest empty chair. Then the purple head smiles sweetly at Todoroki. "Relax. Your little friend will be back to his arrogant, obnoxious self in no time. Until then, I suggest we all enjoy the wonders of a quiet breakfast."

Chatter breaks out across the cafeteria as a fuming, forcedly silent Bakugou gives up trying to stand and resorts to gesturing threateningly toward Shinsou and his crew.

 _Kill him._

 _Gotta kill…_

He is so engrossed with his mental cursing Bakugou almost misses Todoroki flopping down in the opposite chair, fire extinguished, a sympathetic look on his face. "That guy is a real jerk."

Being able to do little else, Bakugou just stares back at him stupidly.

His heart all but leaps in his throat when the smallest smile curves Todoroki's lips. "You're not too bad when you're quiet, you know."

 _… well, every fucking cloud indeed._

They sit quietly through their breakfast after that, Bakugou rendered speechless for a completely different reason long after the effect of Shinsou's Quirk has begun to wind down.

* * *

When they do eventually get to class, the students choose their hero names and learn about their internship options.

Bakugou is somewhat surprised when Todoroki declares he will stay at his father's agency. He briefly wonders if the uncharacteristic decision has something to do with the boy's newfound acceptance of the fire side of his Quirk, but doesn't dwell on it too long; he has his own choice to make.

N. 4 hero Best Jeanist seems by far the most logical option for one intending to fall into All Might's footsteps. Besides, it's not like Bakugou could get an internship at a higher ranked hero's agency, so this will have to do.

His eyes seek Todoroki's across the room. The way his insides churn when the other looks back and nods in a casual hello elicits an unnerved sigh from his lungs.

A week's worth of hard training with a great hero, far from the unbecoming distractions of his teenager body, is exactly what he needs to get back on track.

* * *

 **A/N:** ****** Big shout-out to everyone who's read, followed or fav'd chapter 1 :3 your support means the world to me. ******


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, so his internship didn't go exactly as he had hoped for.

And it's not just because of the stupid hairdo, and the manners crusade, and the total lack of action, and the fact that _Deku_ got to face a super villain while Bakugou was busy ironing Best Jeanist's pants.

It's those fucking dreams.

Night after night, troubling images laced with both gore (All Might defeated by those creepy dudes with their brains out) and lust (glimpses of Todoroki's firm, naked body, warm under his touch) have kept him up and rolling restlessly under the sheets.

There's not much he can do to prevent the first kind of dream: Bakugou has been silently concerned about All Might's conditions ever since the attack at the USJ. He hasn't told anyone, obviously, as the symbol of peace goes out of his way to make it look like he's perfectly dandy. But that fight with the Noumu had been too close for comfort, and Bakugou can't help wondering if he's really the only one who's noticed. Ever since then, he hasn't been unable to shake off this feeling of uneasiness, to shut out the little voice in his head whispering that, sooner or later, they're all going to have to come to grips with the fact that All Might is, indeed, just human.

As for the _other_ category of dreams, it's easy enough. Bakugou refuses to have his life messed up by something so utterly mundane. _That shit's got to end, now._

That's why, by the day classes resume after the whole Stain commotion, Bakugou has more or less made up his mind about what he's come to think of as his Todoroki itch. Since desperate times call for desperate measures, what he's going to do is something no one would expect from his rash, thoughtless persona.

He will analyze.

Not with notebooks and shit like that fucking nerd – he's not a stupid fanboy, for crying out loud; he just has a couple things to check off his mental list while in class before deciding what course of action to take.

And yes, Bakugou Katsuki can have a mental list. Jeez, how dumb does everyone believe him to be?

 _So, checkpoint n.1_ , the blond muses, twiddling a pen between his thumb and forefinger, his back laying nonchalantly against the chair like he didn't have a care in the world. It is crucial to keep up appearances, you know.

Does he actually have the hots for Todoroki?

Red eyes scan the busy classroom and fall on a tame mop of two-tone hair. That goddamn half-'n-half is just sitting there quietly, a vaguely bored look on those graceful features.

 _Gracef – oh, get the fuck outta here._

To a closer examination, Todoroki Shouto is not what you'd commonly call 'handsome'. The guy has got scar tissue over half of his face, for fuck's sake. And most people are not that into mismatched eyes, especially when complimented by Slurpee-coated hair – although Bakugou himself has sort of grown fond of the way that wild ensemble makes the ice jerk stand out in a crowd. At least he's easy to locate, which is not a bad quality to seek in a…

Was he really going to say 'boyfriend' just now?

Sighing irritably, the bomber checks off the first item and moves on with the list in his mind.

Checkpoint n.2: is there anything feminine about Todoroki that may cause a straight guy to have such inappropriate body reactions?

If he were to be completely honest with himself, Bakugou would admit he's not sure why he's fixating so much on the whole straight part. In the modern hero society, things like crossdressing and weird gender-altering Quirks are considered to be perfectly okay, so he can't possibly be feeling any social pressure about it. It's more like he never really wondered and automatically went with the most common option. Not that he's unwilling to go down the road less travelled from time to time; still, for the sake of his checklist…

He sneaks one more look Todoroki's way, and is startled to find the other boy staring back.

 _Crap._ Ok, so maybe he has not been as subtle in his scrutiny as he was thinking.

Those eyes, though.

Todoroki's stare is warm yet sharp, like a blade scalded by flames. Bakugou reckons it must have something to do with his double-sided nature, the way he can manage to look so gentle and stern at the same time.

Definitely not the kind of look you'd expect from a _girl_ , anyway.

Quickly averting his gaze, Bakugou 'tch'es at something someone just said so as to look perfectly focused on whatever the hell it is that his classmates are doing right now. It's bad enough that he got caught staring without adding 'suspected of mooning' to the list.

Checkpoint n.3: ok, so if he's actually got it bad for a dude, does this make him a total queer now, or what?

This time he doesn't need to look around to know the answer. He's caught enough glimpses of bare scrawny buttocks and flaccid dicks in changing rooms over the years to know that's not his piece of cake.

Which leads straight to the absolute key item on his mental list – the one Bakugou has been dreading to address ever since that time after the obstacle race, when he'd first found himself jerking off to vague images of strong biceps and ragged breath.

How do you even begin to suggest the idea that…?

"Oi, Bakugou?"

 _Huh?_

Sitting right beside him, Kirishima prods him in the arm with the tip of his pencil. "You there, bro? Looks like you're spacing out or something."

Bakugou snatches his arm away, his go-to snappy comeback at the ready. "Leave me alone, bastard." Then, upon noticing that no one's sitting at the teacher's desk, "Where'd Aizawa-sensei go?"

Kirishima frowns, a faint shade of worry crossing his face for a moment. "Class is over. Jeez, you really were miles away, weren't you."

"Shut up." Bakugou storms to his feet and collects his things in haste, trying hard to resist the urge to check if a certain someone has left the room yet.

"Wait, Bakugou! I was going to ask you a favor."

 _The hell?_ He shoots a look at the redhead over his shoulder. Then, when no further sound comes, he spits impatiently. "Well spill it, shitty hair! I ain't got all day."

"3rd at midterms, even with such temper…" Kirishima mumbles to himself, then sighs in resignation. "With our finals coming up and all, I could really use some help with the written exams. Think you can spare me a couple hours one of these days?"

 _At least he didn't ask that fucking nerd._ "Tch. Let's get this over and done with. I'll see you tonight in the lounge."

"Really? Whoa, thank you man!"

Whatever. Bakugou is merely grateful for the other interrupting his train of thought right on the verge of derailment.

* * *

The Heights Alliance lounge room is awfully quiet tonight, what with everyone leaving for that fancy study session at Yaoyorozu's.

That is, almost everyone.

Bakugou couldn't miss the two-tone head resting against the bolster on one of the couches if he were to lose his eyesight this instant.

 _The fuck's he here for?_

"Bakugou! Over here!" Standing at the far end of the hall, Kirishima waves his arms about like a maniac to catch his attention.

Bakugou curses under his breath. Trust that idiot redhead to screw up even a simple task like picking their seats. He'll have to pass by Todoroki to get to Kirishima.

Good thing the ice boy is too absorbed in his phone's screen to notice anything else. He doesn't so much as lift an eyebrow, not even when Bakugou deliberately trips on his foot and sends a stream of profanities his way.

Nothing.

 _Screw him._ Not that he gives a shit anyway.

Kirishima is positively beaming as he gestures for Bakugou to take a seat like he owned the place. "Thanks for doing this, man! If you ever need help with anything, you can count on me."

"Like I'd ever need help from the likes of you."

"Riiiight." The redhead bites his tongue at the cold retort. "So, I was thinking we could start with physics and work our way up to…"

That's just about the last thing Bakugou can recall before he stops listening entirely. Even though he sits through the whole coaching session with heroic patience for his standards, his mind and eyes can't help wandering every other minute to the infuriating half-'n-half sitting sideways a few couches away.

There are several lines creasing Todoroki's forehead as he alternates between bringing the phone to his ear and typing frantically. The distress on his face is so uncharacteristic Bakugou can't help but wonder who the hell it is he might be feeling so desperate to reach.

He has to physically suppress the fleeting pang of jealousy that thought entices. It's bad enough that he's stuck lusting after another boy without throwing girly fits about it.

"Bakugou?"

Kirishima's voice breaks him out of his inner turmoil. Which the redhead must be at least partially aware of, if the words he speaks are any indication. "Are you alright? You got this face like you've seen a freaking ghost, or something."

Caught red-handed and hating every second of it, Bakugou resolves to scoff at the question. "Must be your stupid ass mug. So ugly it's scary."

"I'm serious, mate. Something's up with you lately."

 _Oh, for fuck's sake._ It's just his luck that Kirishima should go and grow observational skills all of a sudden. The hardening hero frowns as his eyes trace the direction Bakugou's seem to be running to at any given opportunity. "And you've been staring at Todoroki an awful lot, too. Don't tell me you're still upset about the sports festival?"

Well, that wouldn't be totally inaccurate, Bakugou reasons. He _is_ still royally pissed at Todoroki for making a fool of him in front of the whole hero elite. That he'd be so much of a masochist to mold that grudge into some sick kind of attraction, is not something he's ready to disclose now nor ever.

Kirishima must have been expecting a much prompter retort, for, when Bakuogu takes his time to react, he sighs in exasperation. "You know what, you two should definitely work your shit out. It'll be good for class spirit, and all."

He's just about to jump at the other's throat for implying he'd even care for _class spirit_ – seriously, Kirishima should know him better than this by now – when the redhead lifts one finger as if to make a point.

"Besides, what if you and Todoroki end up on the same team at the practical exam, huh? Would do you no good not to be able to stand each other's presence in combat."

Bakugou feels nearly compelled by pride to dismiss the objection with a disdainful remark. "I can pass any exam by myself, and I sure as fuck don't need that half-'n-half loser's help."

Still, the annoying little fly has got a point.

 _Work our shit out, huh?_

* * *

It's the night before Class 1-A written exams and, consequently, the last coaching session with Kirishima.

Over the past week Bakugou has tried his best to be a decent teacher – if more so for his own personal success than his classmate's – despite the constant distraction that is Todoroki sitting in the lounge every other night, that goddamn phone ever at hand.

The ice boy has been so preoccupied the whole week Bakugou has completely given up trying to get his attention and has decided to bide his time instead. If he's really going with Kirishima's idea, timing is going to be essential. After all, every conversation he and Todoroki have ever had has been on thin ice at best, and that's without counting the ones that ended in an open fight.

He's going to have to walk on fucking eggshells around the object of his attention, which doesn't sit well with him at all, but is still a preferable option than jumping the boy's bones in his umpteenth fit of enraged desire.

As he sets foot in the lounge, Bakugou goes through the ritual he's evolved lately to map any room thoroughly in search of two-tone hair. He spots it soon enough, Todoroki half-sitting half-lying on the same couch from the previous nights, comfortably set in his ways. Something is different tonight, though, Bakugou notices immediately. He's still fiddling with his phone, but the look on his face is content and relaxed now, no trace left of the anguish that'd had Bakugou clench his fists with the urge to punch him happy again.

He takes in his surroundings once more. The lounge is as deserted as it has been all week, Kirishima nowhere in sight. _The nerve of that guy_ , being late for his own private lesson...

Then again, here's an opening Bakugou might just know how to make us of.

 _Here goes nothing, I guess._

"Tch. Looks like you finally got that call through."

In spite of the room being unnervingly quiet, Todoroki must have not heard him approaching, for his head shoots up from his phone screen and his eyes blink in genuine surprise at the sight of the blond boy standing by his sofa. "What did you say?"

Bakugou makes a great show of rolling his eyes and looking aggravated at the other's density. "You were digging holes in that phone the whole week. Today you don't have that crazy face anymore, so I figured whatever problem you had, you prolly worked it out."

If Todoroki is in any way taken aback by the blatant evidence that a boy he knows to hate his guts has been observing him like a fucking creep for days, it does not show on his collected face. "Yeah, well, I'd… been trying to reach my mom. Today her doctors finally let me speak to her."

Something clicks in Bakugou's mind just then. "Is… that where you went the day after the festival? To see your mom?"

Todoroki hesitates this time, whether with embarrassment at being reminded of a day that was not so great for either of them, or reluctance to discuss his private affairs, Bakugou can't tell for sure – but he can share both sentiments. Then he slowly nods, his eyes avoiding the other boy's for the first time since that conversation started.

Bakugou's jaw hardens as he grits his teeth quietly. _His fucking_ mom _._ What a giant, self-centered prick he'd been to think Todoroki would leave because of him.

They're silent after that, neither knowing exactly how to break the impasse. Todoroki casts a quick glance to his phone, most likely to tell the time, and Bakugou takes it as his cue to beat it. "Great. Well, see ya 'round, sucker."

"Bakugou?" Todoroki leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, that quizzical glint dancing in his eyes again like that morning at the mess hall. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not saying?"

 _'Cause if you knew how bad I wanna pin you down on that couch right now, then I'd have to painfully murder you._

"How was he?" Bakugou blurts out instead, praying no trace of the wayward thoughts in his head is showing. "That Stain guy. How'd it feel to fight him?"

Todoroki seems to ponder the question for a moment. "I guess you could say it felt not that unlike watching pro heroes battling, like that time at USJ."

The open disbelief on Bakugou's face tells him he'd better rephrase. "It was a bit like running straight into a ginormous wall that will push you back no matter how strong you come at it. There was one moment toward the end Midoriya, Iida and I all felt paralyzed. I'd never seen such motivation, such drive to destroy in anyone my whole life." He arches one eyebrow as an afterthought. "Except maybe in you."

 _How dare he compare me to – hang on, is he fucking smiling?_ "I'll take that as a compliment."

The smile on Todoroki's lips grows into a smirk. "I thought you would."

They just stay there exchanging looks for a minute, Bakugou's heart rate increasing.

Maybe now's the time to try and…?

"Hey, guys!"

Kirishima's voice resonates through the lounge as he runs to up the two boys.

 _Figures._

"Sorry I'm late, Kaminari was ranting about Yaoyorozu's place again." The redhead pants, his arm resting on Bakugou's shoulder to steady himself (the blond shrugs it away instantly). "Todoroki, you wanna join in? Bakugou's been helping me study, though I have to say I'm not sure his head was fully in it the whole time."

 _He didn't just say…!_ "What the fuck's that s'posed to mean, you ungrateful bastard?" Bakugou barks, hoping to disguise the redness of his cheeks.

Seemingly unfazed, Todoroki stands up and replies politely. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm just going to head back to my room and leave you guys at it. Good luck with your exam, Kirishima."

"Thanks mate."

The half-'n-half redirects his gaze. Bakugou breathes in sharply to brace himself for what's to come, but Todoroki simply nods goodbye at him (Bakugou grunts something that may or not sound like a rejoinder) and walks away.

The very second he's out of sight, Kirshima nudges his blond teacher hard in the ribs. "Soooo, you took my advice after all! How did it go? You two kiss and make up?"

The hardening hero will regret his poor wording when he's spending the following hour removing debris from the lounge floor, eyes struggling to recover from the blinding light of Bakugou's temper.

* * *

 **A/N:** ** thanks so much to KiwiReaper and that lovely anonymous reviewer for their support :D **


	4. Chapter 4

On the day he and the goddamn nerd face All Might for their practical exam, Bakugou realizes just what Todoroki had been going on about when he'd asked him about Stain.

 _"_ _It was a bit like running straight into a ginormous wall that will push you back no matter how strong you come at it."_

On one hand, it is kind of reassuring to be on the receiving end of such ludicrous prowess – it makes Bakugou not fret as much about his model hero's health. On the other hand – more specifically his left hand, the one that had to give its boosting gauntlet over to Deku – how much does it suck to be forced to cooperate when Bakugou has always taken pride in winning his fights by himself?

He lies awake that night, hands entwined behind his head, staring at the ceiling for the longest time.

Deku is probably still at the infirmary right now. He was much worse off than Bakugou, who was discharged as soon as Recovery Girl was through with him.

 _Fucking show-off._ He didn't have to go back and swing that sucker punch at All Might just so he could carry Bakugou out of the arena and be praised for his outstandingly gallant heart.

 _He always does this. I fucking hate him._

Every single time his classmates are making his triumphs into failures by showing mercy on him, like that blasted Todoroki.

Speaking of which.

 _Wonder how his exam went._ Bakugou had been preparing for his own fight at the time, so he couldn't spectate. To be realistic, he knows there were not many possible outcomes for that particular match. Even with Eraser Head blocking their Quirks, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu are easily among the smartest students in the whole school. They were bound to find a way around being deprived of their skills.

Bakugou exhales slowly and scratches his belly. What would happen to him if he were to battle without his Quirk?, he absentmindedly wonders. Ever since the first sparkle of nitroglycerin crackled on his palms, he became the gifted child with the bad temper that oddly matched his explosive ability. He's been like this for so long he can hardly remember what life was like before his Quirk manifested itself.

He slides one hand underneath the black fabric of his pajama t-shirt and starts tracing mindless patterns on his chest. Granted, such brutal power did not come without downsides. He'd had to work hard to prove everyone, especially his teachers, that there was more than met the eye when it came to him being fit to become a hero. Sure, Bakugou had the strength, and the smarts, and the unshakable determination of a pro hero before he even set foot in Yuuei – people would say about him – but was his heart in the right place? Will he actually act like a hero when the time comes?

His hand stops in its tracks as that thought makes his throat tighten.

Most people automatically assume that, just because he doesn't address them willingly, he's not aware of his weak spots. Then again, most people are total dorks.

 _"_ _There was one moment toward the end Midoriya, Iida and I all felt paralyzed."_

For whatever reason, the words Todoroki spoke about that villain keep echoing through his brain. Bakugou knows the feeling now. It crawled down his spine and pooled at the small of his back earlier today, when All Might had him trapped under the rubbles, his arm muscles torn with agony, unable to generate another single blast.

Most people will never see this, but Bakugou is, on occasion, afraid.

He closes his eyes and sighs irritably, hating to admit that truth even to himself. Why is he even thinking along these lines, anyway? What the hell is his problem? He passed his finals with flying colors today, yet here he is, entertaining thoughts of weakness and fear.

And, goddamn, that fucking voice won't shut up either.

 _"_ _I'd never seen such motivation, such drive to destroy in anyone my whole life. Except maybe in you."_

 _Is that all you think there is to me?_ , Bakugou had wanted to ask Todoroki at the time, but – and here's the whole point, isn't it – he'd been too afraid of the answer to do so.

Bakugou grimaces, his fingers drawing soothing circles on his abdomen to ease up the tension in his muscles.

How long has he been like this? This weak and pathetic and _scared_ version of himself. Did the fucking icyhot do this to him or, worse yet, did he do it himself?

He kneads the flesh right above his navel, half punishing half comforting. An all too familiar stinging behind his eyelids tells him he's past his breaking point again.

But it doesn't have to be like this, does it?

Crimson eyes shoot open in the dark as resolution hits Bakugou like a ton of bricks.

What the hell was he thinking? He'd almost forgot the first, most important thing All Might ever taught him, long before his career as a Yuuei teacher started.

In the end, we are but what we choose to be.

He's goddamn Bakugou Katsuki, and hell will freeze over before he chickens out again.

A surge of exhilaration goes straight to his cock, which jumps happily in his briefs. He's just about had it with the tenterhooks anyway. Shoving his hand down his pants on cue, Bakugou gives a satisfied grin to the ghost of Todoroki's future self in his mind.

From tomorrow on, he's out for blood.

* * *

"I have the best idea: why don't we all go shopping together?"

"Hey, yeah! We've never hung out as a class before!"

"Bakugou, see you there, right?" Kirishima smiles at him expectantly.

 _Well, I did say 'tomorrow on'._

It seems that luck is finally on his side. Bakugou knows before Deku has to ask that there's no dragging Todoroki to the shopping mall with what he gets up to on his days off. "I can't think of anything more annoying," he replies haughtily before heading for the exit, his heart pounding in his ears as he nonchalantly strolls past his oblivious target on the way out.

 _The hunt is on._

* * *

It's the longest fucking morning since he can remember. It doesn't help that Bakugou can't seem to find any distraction and basically sits by the window for as long as _five goddamn hours_ like a pining maiden.

When a taxi eventually pulls up in front of the school gate, it's all he can do not to jump off the sill to close the space between Todoroki and him.

He's got it all laid out in his head. Bakugou will wait for Todoroki to enter and head for the dorm. Then he'll run upstairs and make sure to bump into the icyhot just as he's turning the corner to his corridor. The blonde will snap at him for being distracted, Todoroki will give him the cold shoulder, they'll start fighting and Bakugou will get in his pants before nightfall.

Simple and elegant, if he says so himself.

As his plan unfolds, though, Bakugou is suddenly aware of a few glitches he hasn't really considered. Namely, Todoroki doesn't head straight for his room as he'd predicted, deciding to disappear into _fucking thin air_ instead.

The blonde cruises the hallways, bloodshot eyes and bared teeth keeping all other students at bay. Trust the infuriating half-'n-half to be so damn uncooperative just when Bakugou has decided to swallow his pride and clear the air between them.

Forget seduction, he should blast Todoroki into oblivion and be done with it.

That thought becomes more and more enticing as his manhunt goes on to no avail. He searches the whole dorm, co-ed areas included, then storms off to the main wing. This whole situation is so fucking reminiscent of the day after their first close-up encounter it's not even funny. He hopes to at least avoid running into Eraser Head and his knowing looks this time.

By the time Bakugou reaches the school swimming pool, he's just about ready to dive in face-first and let himself drown.

But of course, here he is.

Todoroki is sitting on the edge of the pool, his bare legs dangling in the water just below the hem of his beige cargo shorts. He's dipping his arms too, leaning forward to do what in Bakugou's eyes looks every bit like splashing around like a noisy kid. It takes him a few moments to realize the surface of the pool is freezing and melting repeatedly, courtesy of Todoroki using the two sides of his Quirk to balance it out.

 _Is this his training?_

"Bakugou?" The red-and-white-haired boy turns to look at the intruder breaching his privacy, head cocked to the side. "What are you doing here?"

 _What am I - I should be asking you, you fucking freak, I've been tearing this place apart, and who the hell comes back from a hospital and doesn't go straight to their room to wash their hands, or sob in the pillow, or whatever shit people do when their mom is ill anyway?_

"Say, Half-'n-Half…" Bakugou lets out instead, cringing at how hoarse and tentative his voice sounds. "You said something the other night. About fighting Stain being not so different to watching pro heroes."

Being who he is, Todoroki is not particularly affected by the alarming level of randomness. He merely straightens his back and withdraws his hands from the water, which finally lays still. A quirked eyebrow frames his face nicely as he inquires. "Are you seriously telling me you fought _All Might_ and don't know what I meant by that?"

 _Eyebrows are not_ nice _, for fuck's sake. Get a hold of yourself._ "Don't you fucking compare All Might to that scum!"

Todoroki shrugs. "I never said they are the same. But you'll have to admit they do have something in common."

Bakugou winces in discomfort, his fists clenching against his better judgement. He's always in for a good brawl, but some things are sacred. "You're full of shit. All Might is the world's greatest hero. That Stain guy was just a loser whose name will soon be forgotten."

Todoroki doesn't reply right away. He just stares intently (anything that can shake in Bakugou's body shakes), then draws his knees back to his chest and stands up, dripping water from his limbs. His voice is thick and pensive when he ventures. "You know, sometimes I feel like you and Midoriya worship All Might to a fault."

Mindless of Bakugou's jaw dropping, the half-'n-half goes to dry his soaking hands on his white t-shirt; then, in an afterthought, activates his fire Quirk. "We all respect and admire him, but the two of you really think of him as a god."

Bakugou's vision goes red. He's walking up to Todoroki in long, furious strides before he knows it. "Listen up, pretty face." It comes out as a growl. "Don't you ever, ever put me in the same league as that useless nerd again."

"You feel very strongly about Midoriya, don't you?"

 _Whadda -_ Bakugou is so startled he actually stops walking, eyes blinking rapidly. "The fuck are you blathering about, Half-'n-Half?"

"I'm just saying that everything he does matters a lot to you."

 _The things he says with a straight face…_ Bakugou heaves, his whole body quivering with the pent-up urge to lay his hands on the two-tone jerk. "You know nothing, asshole."

Todoroki shrugs again, looking completely, utterly blank. Later, Bakugou will commit this expression to memory and brood over it for days on end. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm simply pointing out that Midoriya is a big weakness of yours."

 _Weak -_

 _I don't -_

"Fuck you. You have no idea…"

Bakugou couldn't tell you how it came to this. He feels the soft fabric of Todoroki's t-shirt crumple up in his grip as he pulls the taller boy down by his v-neck, bringing their faces close. His heart is threatening to smash his ribcage any minute now, and his palms are sweaty enough to blast Todoroki's clothes off – along with most of his skin – if he wanted to.

Seen up-close, the half-'n-half really has the most spectacularly unnerving eyes. Bakugou finds himself swimming in hazel and teal pools, which widen slightly as Todoroki seems to recognize a predicament he's found himself in before.

"Baku – ?"

 _Shut up._

 _I'm not weak._

 _Nor afraid._

 _Not of you._

"Dammit." Bakugou hisses, then yanks the icyhot down and presses their lips together.

Oxygen fills his lungs for the first time in weeks. The tight coil of yearning and frustration that had been growing in the pit of his stomach melts into a puddle of relief, as Bakugou finally acts on the fantasy that was consuming him. He parts his lips experimentally, breathing harsh through his nose as Todoroki's lower lip slips between his, soft and plump and so warm it makes his head spin. His body moves on its own accord, one hand releasing the grip on the half-'n-half's shirt to nestle happily in the soft hair on the boy's nape. Todoroki is hot all over, and Bakugou can feel his vessels throb as blood pumps faster beneath his skin. The blonde's chest caves in when he hears heavy breathing and realizes it's not his own.

 _Need…_

Bakugou wrenches himself away and gasps for air, his forehead brushing against the tip of Todoroki's nose. Never before has he been so grateful for the _slight_ height difference between them, as he really appreciates not having to make eye contact right now.

"Fuck. I'm…" Bakugou shakes his head at the pathetic wheeze that escapes his throat. He's still dizzy with this ridiculous, raw emotion he can't attach a name to, but he doesn't fail to notice Todoroki's breath catching in his throat, like he's about to say something.

 _Can't have that now._

"Don't. Shut up. Just -" Bakugou figures there's really only one way to silence him that makes sense at this point in time, so he kisses the icyhot again, mashing their bodies together. The overflow of air in his ribcage makes him lightheaded; he drinks in the sweet, intoxicating flavor of Todoroki's lips, before deciding that, if he's going to do this and face the fucking consequences, then to hell with foreplay.

Bakugou's tongue prods Todoroki's lips apart, hungrily licking the corners of his mouth before plunging in. Everything's hot, and wet, and soft, and Bakugou draws the half-'n-half closer, the hand still entangled in red and white hair coaxing Todoroki to tilt his head for deeper access.

Even though the other boy isn't exactly reciprocating, arms at his sides, there's one brief moment when his tongue does brush against Bakugou's overly enthusiastic one, possibly in an attempt to quell said enthusiasm. The hesitant touch all but fuels the blonde's excitement, electricity shooting straight to his groin.

He couldn't help it even if he wanted to and, to be perfectly honest, right now he doesn't give a flying fuck.

Bakugou's dick throbs wantonly, begging for friction. He grinds slowly against Todoroki's thigh, their kiss getting sloppier as blood departs from his brain and he forgets what little notion he has on the subject of snogging.

Two very distinct realizations hit him then and there.

One, the heat that had been previously radiating so alluringly from Todoroki's body was replaced by a chilly wave somewhere along the line.

Two, there is no sign of matching arousal against his own.

Bakugou's everything freezes.

He pulls back as abruptly as he'd dived in, just as eager to put distance between them as he'd been to merge with the half-'n-half for longer than he cares to remember. His voice is shaky from panting and plotting murder. "You could have said something if you were hating it, y'know."

Well at least, Bakugou rejoices, those fucking stunning eyes don't look that expressionless anymore. Todoroki's voice sounds slightly agitated, which is more than Bakugou recalls ever hearing from the icy bitch. " _You_ kissed _me_."

"Yeah, and I was clearly the only one into it. So, what's your problem?" Bakugou bites down hard on his lip, fighting to suppress the urge to shove him. The half-jerk half-dimwit has no fucking clue how much it costs him to speak like that with a raging boner in his pants Todoroki can still evidently see. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why didn't you punch me, or kick me in the nuts, or whatever. I know that's what I'd do if a guy came up to me and shoved his tongue down my throat against my will."

"My problem?" A round-eyed Todoroki almost sputters in disbelief. "Maybe it's just that I'm not a child who bullies his way through life because he's afraid to take a long hard look in the mirror."

The venom in his voice hits Bakugou harder than the words themselves.

He instinctively raises his fist to punch the fucker, but a sudden calm falls over him, blanketing his damaged pride and cooling him down. "Y'know what? Fine. You're not fucking worth it anyway."

Todoroki's jaw tightens, but Bakugou doesn't plan on staying around to hear what he might have to say. He turns on his heels and bolts, too drained to give a shit about the goddamn stinging at the back of his eyes.

* * *

The most appalling of all things appalling happens when Bakugou is back at the dorm, standing right in front of his bedroom's door.

He can't find the fucking key card.

Looks like this day just isn't through with him, he grimly muses, searching his pockets fruitlessly for the hundredth time. All he wants right now is a small, private corner to curl up and die or, more likely, to blow stuff up without the whole faculty tearing him a new one like that time in the lounge.

(Cementoss-sensei had made sure that he and Kirishima got three days of detention, and that fucking sadist Aizawa had demanded they clean up their mess without using their Quirks, while All Might dropped by every now and then to offer huge smiles, unwarranted advice and manly pats on the back. This school was a total madhouse for sure.)

Staring at the unnervingly locked door before him, Bakugou curses under his breath and contemplates what to do.

Blowing the door up, though very high on his wish list, probably isn't an option. If he's to face detention again for using his Quirk outside of class, he's hell-bent on blasting some other students – he can think of a few names on the spot.

Getting a duplicate would arguably be the sensible thing to do, except that it's a day off and no one from administration will be around till morning.

He can't bunk in with the idiot redhead either, because he just had to be the eager bastard he is and went to the mall with pretty much everyone else Bakugou knows, apart from –

Not a good place for his mind to wander off to now, no.

Bakugou glares at the offending door and resolves to do the only thing that makes a remote semblance of sense in his book besides blowing the whole school up. Tiredly dragging his feet, he sets to retracing all the damned steps that led him to the swimming pool and back, as humiliating a feat as that is.

He's not looking forward to going down the path of the lovesick twice on the same day.

While stumbling along the corridors, Bakugou tries his damnedest to keep his thoughts from going exactly where they're dying to go, just so as not to make the whole journey more miserable than it needs to be.

But he's tired, and mad, and just a tiny bit broken right now, thus his control slips.

How could Todoroki say that shit to him?

First insulting All Might, then exposing Bakugou's adoration for the symbol of peace, looking down on it as _childish_. And the Deku part. Bakugou reckons that's what ticked him off the hardest, leading him to make the ill-fated choice he did. All that bullshit talk about his alleged feelings for the lame nerd, Todoroki maintaining a straight face all along, like he didn't fucking realize how off the mark his accusations were and _the goddamn irony of it all_.

What's worse, if Bakugou is not fooling himself, Todoroki hadn't sounded the tiniest bit jealous.

 _And why would he be? It's not him who wants –_

Bakugou does.

Want Todoroki, that is.

Any doubt he might have had on the subject dissipated completely the moment their mouths had touched, and life itself had seemed to flow through those lips, nourishing and powerful like nothing Bakugou had felt before.

It's the corniest thing ever, but that doesn't make it any less true.

Bakugou forgoes checking the 3rd floor corridor as he can't bring himself to walk by Todoroki's room at the moment. He makes a beeline for the swimming pool instead, eyes downcast in search of the _fucking key card that decided to slip out of his pocket and add insult to the lovely injury this day was._ With his luck, the half-'n-half probably found it and burned it to get back at Bakugou for molesting him, he humorlessly considers as he crawls into the building.

He was not expecting Todoroki to still be inside, but that's not what strikes him like thunder as the pool enters his line of sight.

A shirtless Todoroki is peacefully afloat, his arms resting against the edge behind him to support his body weight. His head is thrown back, exposing the white column of his throat in a way that makes Bakugou's mouth go dry. Mismatched eyes are closed, imperceptibly labored breathing coming out of gently parted lips.

Bakugou can't fucking breathe.

He takes a cautious step backward, dreading to face the boy again so soon after practically jumping him, but then his eyes pick up on the one detail that sets his skin on fire.

Below the slightly rippled surface of the water, Todoroki's right hand is moving slowly.

"You got to be shitting me."

The exclamation leaves Bakugou's lips before he can even think of containing it. Todoroki is startled awake, his head snapping as his eyes dart to and fro to locate the source of the disturbance. The moment he sees Bakugou his eyes narrow to slits, but his words lack any real bite. "Are you stalking me now?"

The bomber approaches the pool in slow, careful strides. Part of him hates to be interrupting Todoroki while he's being so fucking hot it hurts, but he has just spotted his key card on the damp tiles. "Chill the fuck out, dipshit." Bakugou bends to retrieves the card, his eyes never leaving the two-tone handsome who promptly glares back at him.

"Would you mind not eyeing me as if I was a piece of meat?"

Amused despite himself, Bakugou pockets the key card, a grin stretching on his lips. "Yeah, bet you want me to look away. So you can finish your little…"

"Watch that mouth, Bakugou."

The blonde scoffs and shakes his head quietly. "You re fucking unbelievable." He nears the edge of the swimming pool, locking eyes with the half-'n-half. "How did you do it, huh? Used your Quirk to freeze your balls so I couldn't tell how much you were enjoying it?"

Todoroki makes a great show of blinking like an outraged maiden, which Bakugou finds almost endearing given the situation. "You're absolutely insane."

"Am I really?" He feels every bit like a predator on the prowl as he crouches over the edge of the pool, getting as close to the other boy as he physically can without actually diving in. "Doesn't matter how you look at it, you were so damn horny you couldn't wait and just had to jerk off in the fucking pool." Bakugou's smile is somewhere between teasing and fond as he touches his nose to Todoroki's. "Never would have pegged you as the kinky type, icyhot."

Something changes in the half-'n-half's expression just like that. He forsakes the offended look, one eyebrow shooting up in mockery. "You think this has to do with you?" Todoroki smirks, which, at such close proximity, sort of sends shivers down Bakguou's spine. "Insane _and_ delusional."

 _Wanna kiss those fucking lies right back down his throat._

"Sure thing, princess. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Bakugou's eyes drift lower, shining with mischief. "Bet you're still hard as a rock down there."

It's sudden and kind of scary. Ice erupts from underwater, growing into a giant shard that Bakugou barely has the reflexes to dodge. He's not quick enough to escape it completely, though, as he finds when his left hand ends up encased in ice.

Now, he could just use his other hand to blast himself free of the ice cage, but what would the fun in that be? He gives Todoroki a look he hopes comes off at least partly annoyed, quirked eyebrow and curled lips. "What the hell, popsicle? I thought you wanted me gone. Way to send mixed signals here."

When Todoroki swings his left hand again, however, Bakugou does use his explosions to fend off the ice. He jumps back, now free of restraint, and stretches his fingers to prevent frostbite. The familiar urgency of battle and the adrenaline that goes with it put a wide grin on his face.

 _Well, it's not kissing, but this ain't bad either._

"You still owe me a fight, by the way. Dunno if you're _up_ for it right now though…"

He stresses the word, hoping it sounds as lewd as intended. Judging by the way Todoroki's eyes darken, he reckons it did.

"Anytime."

A rush of excitement shocks through the blonde's body, his sweaty palms only waiting for his cue to work their magic.

And then the door springs open, a chirp female voice resonates through the nearly empty room.

"I thought I heard voices from the inside! What are you boys doing here? You know students are not allowed access to the swimming pool unless they have a permit." Midnight-sensei, bikini-clad and beach towel at hand, gives them her best impression of a stern look and places her hands on her sides reproachfully.

Bakugou never forgave her for knocking him out cold at the sports festival final, so he doesn't bother concealing his scorn. "So that teachers can sunbathe at their heart's content?"

The charming heroine plasters a deceivingly sweet smile on her lips. "May I see your permit, Bakugou-kun?"

"Hey, I'm not even fucking using the pool! I just came in to check for my key card." Bakugou produces the evidence from his back pocket matter-of-factly. "See?" He gestures with his chin in Todoroki's general direction, looking every bit as spiteful as he sounds. "Ask _him_ the goddamn permit."

"That won't be necessary." Todoroki deadpans quietly. He lifts his weight on his arms and levers himself to get out of the pool. Bakugou shamelessly stares as the half-'n-half proceeds to drying up using the natural heat of his left side. "My apologies, Midnight-sensei. This won't happen again."

"I appreciate _your_ manners, Todoroki-kun," Midnight glances meaningfully at Bakugou, who snorts and averts his eyes, "but I'm afraid I can't let this slide." Looking anything but won over, the dark-haired woman winks ever so pleasantly. "We wouldn't want other young heroes to think you're getting a special treatment because you're a recommended student, now, would we?"

 _Bitch_ , Bakugou thinks to himself, then absentmindedly checks Todoroki's crotch for any sign of the kind of activity he'd been up to. He finds none.

"I understand, ma'am."

"Very well. You two will report to the principal's office first thing tomorrow then."

"Me?" Bakugou almost chokes on his spit. "The fuck did I do?"

Midnight cocks her head to the side and gives him that stupid, condescending look his mom _and_ Todoroki give him on occasion. "How exactly do you plan to explain how your key card ended up here, if not by you using the pool?"

 _Now, that is a bit of a funny story._

Since Todoroki has the decency to look at least vaguely embarrassed, Bakugou gives up pressing the matter of his innocence, but for a feeble: "This is bullshit. Ain't do a thing," to which Midnight replies by moving one of her bra straps aside, pink smoke ensuing immediately.

"We can do this the easy or the hard way, Bakugou-kun."

The bomber 'tch'es, secretly marveling at how totally indifferent he is to the gorgeous half-naked woman in front of him. _Guess that kiss really fucking ruined me for chicks, huh._ "Had plenty hard things for one day, thank you."

The dirty look that elicits from Todoroki makes him ridiculously happy for a moment.

"That settles it, then." The heroine waves her hands at the boys dismissively, hoisting the beach towel onto her shoulder. "Now shoo, you two."

They leave the pool side by side in deadly silence.

Which Bakugou breaks as soon as they're out of Midnight's earshot. "Hope you're fucking happy, half shit. You prolly got me detention. "

Todoroki casts him a superior look over his shoulder ( _so much for enjoying the height difference, huh_ ) and starts walking off. "Believe it or not, I could care less what happens to you."

 _Smartass_ , Bakugou thinks, and instantly decides to make him pay. "Have fun jacking off to me later!"

The trail of fire and ice Endeavor's son leaves in his wake tells Bakugou it's probably best if the two of them don't walk back to the dorm together.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Many thanks to **KiwiReaper** , **dizzidaisy37** and **akashitetsuya3120** for reviewing. You guys are the best.**


	5. Chapter 5

_In the dimly lit bedroom, the scar is barely visible. Bakugou's fingertips graze it with tenderness, his thumb tracing the contour of sharp jaw and cheekbones, while his palm cups the marred face with something akin to reverence._

 _Todoroki keeps his eyes closed, focused on sensation alone. As much as he misses the look of scorching desire he knows two-tone eyes are capable of, Bakugou is mostly grateful that someone as emotionally detached as Todoroki would trust him enough to give himself over like this._

 _He plants a slow kiss on his lover's lips, then slides to nestle in the crook of Todoroki's neck. Bakugou breathes in the scent of the other's skin, brushes his mouth on the taut flesh, swirls his tongue over the jutting bones of his collarbone._

 _Todoroki sighs deeply, a sign he is enjoying this more than he will ever let on. Bakugou is ok with this. He has to be, because he was given so much already, and you don't question your luck when every wrong turn you took in your life has led you to a kind of happiness you never even knew existed._

 _The blonde crawls down the muscular glade that is Todoroki's naked chest, his lips never ceasing to worship the porcelain skin as they go. A wet trail of kisses marks the path Bakugou prays to go down for the rest of his life. His tongue dips briefly into his lover's bellybutton, which earns him a barely audible but nonetheless present gasp. Bakugou's hands grip Todoroki's sides firmly as he covers the expanse of softer skin below the navel in feverish kisses, his nose soon buried in red and white hair that retains the purest essence of Todoroki's arousal._

 _He's wrapping his mouth around the awaiting cock before the other can brace himself._

 _Bakugou twirls his tongue about the throbbing shaft, moaning softly in his throat. He thinks he could come just by this, the heady scent of Todoroki's desire and the tiny shivers he feels quaking the ice hero's body. He gives one long, hard lick to the underside of Todoroki's dick, and his heart skips a beat when that actually has his lover whimper._

 _They don't normally talk at times like this, but Bakugou feels an exception is in order._

 _He will fucking die if he doesn't get to hear that sound again._

 _Pulling back just enough to glance upward, he meets a half-lidded stare flooded with need and words unspoken. Crimson eyes melt like caramel as Bakugou murmurs, gentle and sensual._

 _"Don't you dare hold back."_

* * *

"Don't you dare hold back," the words roll off Bakugou's tongue like water, echoes of the dream he had last night bouncing off the walls in his head, "like you did at the sports festival. Bring everything you've got."

Todoroki nods, looking genuinely committed for once. "I will."

What the hell possessed him to yield to Kirishima's pestering this morning, Bakugou has no idea. He is kind of glad he did now, though, as he readies himself on the starting block, his biggest rivals beside him.

This is just what he needs. If he focuses on winning the swimming race, memories of his nighttime dream romance and thoughts of just how ridiculously fuckable Todoroki looks in nothing but his swimming trunks will hopefully stop haunting him.

They haven't talked once since the key card accident, as Bakugou refers to it in his mind – mainly because any other definition would be fucking embarrassing, and not something you can dwell on in public places. Even the morning after that, when Bakugou had dragged his feet to principal Nezu's office, snapping at everything and everyone on the way, Todoroki hadn't been there. The principal had claimed that the half-'n-half, being a "remarkably early riser", had gone to report at the crack of dawn, but Bakugou had seen through the crappy lie for what it was.

He is absolutely positive Todoroki was avoiding him.

Still is, if the face he pulled when Bakugou showed up fashionably late at the endurance training session is anything to go by. Knowing that the icy bitch is uncomfortable around him only adds to the fun of this lovely morning spent boasting in front of the whole class. Any day he gets to show off his Quirk, humiliate Deku and ogle a half-naked, flustered Todoroki all in one go is like fucking Christmas to him.

Too bad Eraser goddamn Head gets in the way of what Bakugou is sure would have been a glorious victory. He could swear the whole fucking school is against him anyway, always trying to hold him back –

 _"Don't you dare hold back."_

– and mellow him out, like that time during the stupid internship at Best Jeanist's.

Whatever.

Bakugou always knew it's lonely at the top.

* * *

"Soooo, you guys excited?" A beaming Kirishima pulls Bakugou into a one-arm hug, grinning from ear to ear.

The blonde jerks his shoulder to brush him off, more out of habit than actual annoyance. "Not as excited as these morons, that's for sure."

Two pairs of eyes turn to witness the gross little dance Round Face initiated, promptly joined by Pinky and the lightning idiot.

"Still, it's better than staying idle all summer, since we weren't allowed to leave for the holidays anyway," Kirishima points out. Then, for reasons that will remain a total mystery to Bakugou, addresses the only other student standing within earshot. "Has your dad ever told you about their summer camp, Todoroki?"

The red-and-white-haired seems to waver for a second, probably failing to picture the scene in his head, before mustering the diplomacy he needs to reply coolly. "My father and I don't really talk much."

"I see." Sensing shaky ground under his feet, Kirishima tries to steer the conversation towards charted waters. "Bet that was one hell of a course, the n. 1 and 2 heroes graduating the very same year!"

"Tch. Like Endeavor could ever hold a candle to All Might."

Bakugou stares openly, the malicious glint in his eyes daring Todoroki to disagree. He's only vaguely aware of Kirishima's shriek in the background – "Ruuude, man!" – as he searches the scarred face for any sign of emotion. Any will do, just _don't fucking look so blank all the time. It pisses me off._

 _You're pretty._

Todoroki lifts one hand to reassure the antsy redhead. "It's fine. I don't mind." Then he cocks his head to the side, a motion so typically his Bakugou swallows thickly. "Why are you not wearing your tie?"

 _Huh?_

"Huh?" The blonde voices eloquently, too dumbfounded by the notion that _Todoroki is_ _willingly talking to him_.

"He's right, bro. You're the only one here with a messy uniform." Krishima pats him on the back in sympathy. "Iida-kun will throw a fit when he sees you."

"Four Eyes can go fuck himself on that stick he got up his ass, for all I care." Bakugou trades mechanically, the lingering warm feeling of being spoken to softening his tone despite himself. He holds Todoroki's gaze as he reluctantly offers, "That stupid ass tie gets in the way when I'm fighting, and it's too hot to bother anyway."

When the icyhot quirks an eyebrow and actually lets his eyes wander to Bakugou's torso, the bomber fights off the impending blush with a vicious snarl. "Well? What's it to you what I wear, Half-'n-Half?"

Predictably enough – and no, thanks, Bakugou doesn't find alarming at all that he has got Todoroki's gestures engraved in his mind – the taller boy gives a non-committal shrug. "Just observing, is all."

"Yeah, well, go observe someone else, scarface."

"Easy, you two. C'mon, the bus is here."

They get in line before the entrance, Bakugou pretending to look for something in his bag to distance himself from the other two. He's not exactly ready to sit anywhere near Todoroki through the whole endless ride to whatever it is they're going, so he settles for hitting the back row with Bird Guy (who is considerably less annoying than most other classmates, though the whole I-have-a-beak-and-a-demon-inside-me thing slightly grosses Bakugou out).

His jaw almost drops when none other than the half-'n-half bastard approaches the empty seat in front of his own, next to the navel weirdo. "Is this taken?"

Laser Beam looks every bit as baffled as Bakugou, if not equally panicked. "N-No?" He asks more than states, which Bakugou takes as his cue to have a say on the matter.

"Piss off, icyhot! Dun wanna have to look at your stupid cupcake head the whole trip."

He only realizes his mistake when Todoroki turns to look him straight in the eye, a tiny smirk stretching lips that Bakugou can still feel on his own at night. "Yeah, well," and the way he draws out the words leaves absolutely no doubt he's parroting what the blonde had said before they got on the bus, "look away then."

Bakugou chews on his anger as the bus gets moving.

The ride is just as insufferably long and tedious as he had expected it to be. Desperate to shut off his classmates' cries of excitement, Bakugou goes so far as to try and get some sleep, even though that makes for a severe violation of his never 'let your guard down around strangers' policy. Every time he's about to doze off, however, his skin starts prickling with the persistent feeling that he's being watched, although he never catches anyone staring.

Bakugou eyes red and white hair warily and grunts under his breath.

* * *

His mood brightens significantly when they finally reach their first stop, which turns out to be Yueei code for, go die in a monster-infested forest and starve till you can barely stand, let alone fight.

That's precisely what Bakugou likes about this school.

Now, if only that infuriating icyhot would stop getting in his way, that would be going somewhere.

"Stop following me, half-'n-half bastard!" Bakugou yells as he blasts his way through a particularly intricate passage in the woods. "Have seen enough of you to last me the goddamn week, so scram already!"

"Funny, I thought you were chasing after me."

"What?" The double entendre has Bakugou trip on a protruding root and only avoid complete and total embarrassment by blasting himself off the ground.

Todoroki dashes ahead of him, not before the blonde can catch the hint of a smile blooming on his face.

 _The hell is…?_

* * *

At dusk they're finally out of the woods, dog-tired but filled with hope as the prospective of dinner and bathing casts new light over the grim beginning of their camp.

Well, that _and_ seeing Deku kicked in the nuts by a goddamn kid is admittedly priceless.

"That brat's got spunk," Bakugou comments wholeheartedly, taking pride in the future generations for knowing what's what since a young age.

"He's like a mini version of you."

He almost cranes his neck as he spins around to find Todoroki standing right behind him, hands in his pocket, a barely-there glint of derision in mismatched eyes that look _fucking breathtaking_ in the sunset.

Much to his horror, Bakugou feels heat rise to his cheeks and he croaks, sounding unconvincing to his own ears. "What are you talking about? You need to shut your mouth before I blast you all the way to hell!"

Todoroki doesn't give him more than a faintly bored glance. "Yeah, sure."

 _I hate you, I hate you, I…_

"Enough playing around. Get your stuff off the bus."

Class 1-A follows Eraser Head's instructions and scatters. As everyone heads to their quarters to unpack, Bakugou drags behind, a single question ringing through his brain like a tune he can never get out.

Why is Todoroki even talking to him?

* * *

Ok, now it's just getting weird.

They're at the hot springs, bathing in separate groups before heading to bed. Not that Bakugou enjoys the camaraderie, but even he is wise enough to value the beneficial effects of the hot water on his aching body over his ever important privacy.

That he gets to see Todoroki in nothing but a towel hanging loosely around his waist is just a bonus, really.

He sits languidly at the far end of the onsen, arms poised on the edge of the pool, much like Todoroki's had been when -

\- when the little guy with the grape hair decides to climb up the wall separating the boys' hot springs from the girls', thus incurring Four Eyes' righteous indignation.

"Get down here this instant, Mineta!"

Bakugou watches as the whole ruckus ultimately culminates in the little perv falling butt-first on the class rep's face, which is not half bad as a goodnight show, even though it doesn't beat Deku doubled over and clutching his groin in pain.

Speak of the nerd.

Next thing Bakugou knows, the fucking flea is jumping to rescue his baby assaulter who, for some reason the bomber is not entirely sure of, is now falling down the very same wall he'd pushed Grape Head off.

 _Guess you could call it karma, huh?_

In the end, Four Eyes flees the scene (most likely to scrub his face raw) and the green-haired moron escorts the unconscious brat to the infirmary. Bakugou feels a very familiar anger boil in his chest, work its way up his throat and eventually out of his mouth.

"Stupid nerd." He vents out to no one in particular. "Just has to play the hero any chance he gets, doesn't he."

"Why does it bother you so much?"

Of course, _he_ of all people should be the one to join in. Bakugou all but groans in exasperation. "It doesn't fucking bother me, Half-'n-Half." He rolls his eyes for emphasis. "If goddam Deku wants to go and make an ass of himself every other day, it's his problem, not mine."

Sitting gracefully on the edge of the hot springs, the tiny bath cloth barely covering the expanse of a lean, strong thigh, Todoroki looks away from Bakugou, signaling his will to drop the discussion. "Is Mineta okay?" He asks, somehow managing to sound more disgusted than concerned – a feeling Bakugou would totally relate to, if only he gave a shit.

"If by 'okay' you mean concussed and cockblocked, then I guess so, yeah." The lightning idiot replies light-heartedly, before climbing out of the pool with a heavy sigh on his lips. "C'mon, my unlucky, degenerate friend. Let's put you to bed now."

"Hang on mate, I'll help."

Hair for Brain and Sparky collect a rambling Grape Head ("So close… to the sun… that I got burnt… I'm just like Icarus…!") and stumble their way out of the onsen, waving everyone goodnight.

"Well, guess I'll hit the sack too, then. Today was pretty intense for a first day!"

That's Tape talking, followed suit by Tail and Animal Control guy (Bakugou really can't be bothered with names).

"Yeah, and Aizawa-sensei said training will start at the break of dawn."

"I'm worn out already!"

"You can have one of my candy bars, it'll restore your energies."

"That only works so much on other people, you know, Sato-kun…"

"We should all call it a day." Bird Guy removes the drenched cloth from his forehead and wrings it out dry. "Todoroki-kun? Are you coming?"

Bakugou looks up through his lashes and sees the icy hero shake his head. "In a minute. I haven't really bathed yet."

 _Hold on a sec._

 _What's he…?_

"Right. Goodnight, Bakugou." Bird Guy says politely, then goes after the four who have just left.

The blonde can barely hear him over the sudden pounding of his heart.

 _What the hell is…?_

Just like that, they are alone now, stark naked in a hot tub at night with no one around for miles and _Todoroki is staring at him_. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the last remnants of Bakugou's judgement put two and two together and _if he's going to bathe now, that means we'll be_ -

His brain handles the overload of emotion the only way it knows how to. It shuts down.

Survival instincts kicking in, Bakugou leaps to his feet, too flustered with the urge to scramble off to feel self-conscious about his own semi nudity. Mismatched eyes follow his moves with mild curiosity as he all but jumps out of the pool, overwhelmed by the need to say something, anything _,_ just _don't fucking bolt like you're frightened by him, goddammit_ , his head refusing all form of cooperation and leaving him high and dry. Even though he's very much wet right now. _Shut up, brain._

"I, huh, guess I'll go now."

If he'd been expecting Todoroki to say or do anything to stop him, he'd been sorely mistaken. The half-'n-half simply watches with apparent disinterest, his body language giving no indication that he's going to get into the pool anytime soon. On a rational level, Bakugou knows that, Todoroki being even more of a private person than he is, the dual hero is probably waiting for him to leave to have the hot springs all to himself. Still, there's something primitive in him, a sparkle, a voice whispering, just to mess with Bakugou and lead him astray –

 _What if he lied to be alone with me?_

– which clearly doesn't make sense at all, because Bakugou has been rubbing his hair with a towel for two fucking decades now, and Todoroki has yet to give any sign that he's willing to start a conversation or whatever with him.

This is so lame.

He should just go.

His body and mind yet again out of sync, Bakugou hears his own voice calling.

"Hey, icyhot." He rocks on the balls of his feet, looking every bit as awkward as he feels. "Why have you been talking to me?"

That sparks more of a reaction than he was hoping for. Todoroki looks genuinely surprised. "Excuse me?"

Blushing like a fucking schoolgirl, Bakugou snaps to retain some semblance of dignity. "You know goddamn well what I mean. First this morning, the tie thing. Then the bus. Then the woods. And then that crap you said 'bout the little kiddo sounding like me."

"I rest my case, you know." A small smile tugs at the corner of Todoroki's lips, that unreadable glint in his eyes Bakugou has come to know, if not decrypt, by now. "Although you probably wouldn't fall off a wall after seeing a bunch of naked girls, I'll give you that."

The little afterthought pushes Bakugou's buttons all at once. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His eyes oddly match the color of his flushed cheeks as he stutters. "You think because of what happened at the pool that girls don't, don't, do it for me, huh? Is that it?"

What will be of him if he just lets anyone go and assume stuff like that, for fuck's sake. It doesn't help that the innocent remark hit closer to home than Bakugou would like Todoroki to notice.

The icyhot blinks slowly, flabbergasted. "I only meant that I trust you to use your Quirk to break the fall, should you lose your balance in the first place."

 _And now you've gone and made an ass of me again._ Perfect, just perfect.

Fuming with both rage and shame, a beet red Bakugou clenches his fists at his sides and lets out a sullen, "You piss me off, half shit", before turning on his heels and making his way toward the exit on wobbly legs.

"Bakugou." The voice reaches him when he's almost, though not quite, out of earshot.

"Sorry if I wasn't fair to you."

Bakugou doesn't turn around. For one thing, he's pretty damn sure he would find in Todoroki's poker face nothing he can't gather from the boy's words alone. Plus, he doesn't really trust his own face not to give away every single thought that's crossing his mind at the moment -

 _When were you unfair to me?_

 _The sports festival?_

 _That night in your room?_

 _The blasted swimming pool?_

\- and god knows he's embarrassed himself enough for one day. He decides to do the wise thing, for once, and simply take what he can get.

"I don't need no pussy apology." Bakugou grunts, making sure there's no heat in his tone. Then he walks away in haste, praying Todoroki can't tell from the hunch in his back how much his words have affected him.

It's not until later, when he's lying awake in his holiday bed, going over every detail of their little exchange, that he realizes.

Todoroki never really answered him.

* * *

 **A/N:** ** Thanks a bunch to **DramaDragon2** and **drummergirl101** for reviewing last chapter. Glad you are enjoying this and took the time to show me your support :D **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks from the bottom of my heart to DramaDragon2 and drummergirl101 for the lovely reviews :3 and big shout-out to all the silent readers who are enjoying this at least a bit.**

* * *

Day 2 of summer camp goes more like Bakugou had expected. The training to improve on his Quirk leaves him red-palmed and frustrated beyond belief, but that, too, is part of becoming number one. Or so he keeps telling himself, as he sneaks hateful looks to where Deku is doing squats, huffing in that overzealous way of his that sets off all kinds of alarms in Bakugou's head. That shitty nerd had better stop trying so hard. Not very wise to trigger Bakugou's murder mode first thing in the morning.

As usual, Todoroki's particular brand of training stands out for its ridiculous grandeur. That dual Quirk never fails to draw eyes to its wielder, although Bakugou for one is less stricken by the wide circle of ice and flames than he is by the sight of a shirtless Todoroki panting and sweating in that wash tub.

 _What's with this guy and pools anyway?_ It's getting hard to recall the last time Bakugou has seen him fully clothed, for fuck's sake.

Afternoon comes and goes and, before they know it, they're heading for the dining tables, which look suspiciously non-laid. Pussycat #1 cheerily announces that they'll be making their own food tonight, something only Four Eyes sounds equally enthusiastic about. The rest of Class A trudges pitifully toward the stoves, too exhausted to voice much of a protest.

However, as to be expected from a teenagers getaway, it's not long before excitement takes over. Bakugou reluctantly takes up his share of chores, though it doesn't feel like his contribution is as valued as _someone's_.

"Hey, Todoroki! Can we get some fire over here too?" Black Eyes asks chirpily, hope filling her voice as she beholds the crackling flames beneath Pony Tail's cooking pot.

"Bakugou, use an explosion to light that!" The sticky idiot with the large mouth looks at him expectantly, which instantly wins him a spot on the bomber's to-kill list.

Ok, so here's the thing.

Bakugou hasn't exactly mastered the art of tuning down the destructive potential of his explosions as of yet. A fact he is acutely aware of, and has worked to change all goddamn day, so far with less than promising results. He doesn't need a reminder, least of all in front of -

 _You're dead to me, Tape._

"This is so beneath me." Bakugou spits in contempt, but tries his hand with the stupid fireplace nonetheless – with predictable outcomes.

"Too much!"

 _Oh go to hell, Bird Boy._

Footsteps on the ground, a faint rustling of fabric. "Here. Let me…"

Bakugou reflexively stiffens as a thankfully dressed Todoroki crouches by his side to fix the fire. His scarred face looks softer in the warm light, the blonde can't help but notice, and the odd gentleness reaches his eyes as he gets praised by his classmates.

It's possibly the first time he's seen a genuinely content smile on Todoroki's lips.

Bakugou springs up, heat radiating off his cheeks in a way he hopes any bystander would put down to the blazing fire. He shoves his hands down the pockets of his cargo pants and walks away, resolving to put his time to better use since the bunch of idiots and their human torch have got it all covered.

He strolls off to the woods, kicking pebbles along the way. When he's far enough that he no longer hears ominous laughter coming from the camp, Bakugou stretches his abused palms and takes a sharp breath.

 _Let's do this._

His skin prickling with the familiar feeling of nitroglycerin reacting to his Quirk, he concentrates on conjuring the tiniest possible spark. It still results in an outright blast that sets a couple twigs and branches by his feet aflame.

 _No good. Crap._

Bakugou frowns and gives it another go.

He soon loses all sense of time, oblivious to the sun setting around him and the night wind rising, the growing numbness in his arms the only indication of just how long his little impromptu training session has been going on. Bakugou scrunches his eyes shut and breathes through his nose, the pungent smell of gunpowder surrounding him. This scent has been part of his life since he was a child, and he lets himself being cradled for a moment, bittersweet memories flooding his brain – memories of a playground and a school and a stream, and a little kid with green hair and a heart too big for his own good. Memories of a golden hero whose broad back would always stand against all hardship, and whose bright smile would bring hope to the hearts of the good, and torment to those of the evil.

"Bakugou?"

Anyone will tell you he's not easily startled, but he sure as hell jumps out of his skin now.

"Holy…!" Bakugou spins around, ready to blast a hole in the stomach of whoever it is that – but of course, none other than Todoroki _fucking everywhere I turn_ Shouto stands before his eyes. "Fuck you, Half-'n-Half! The hell you think you're doing, sneaking up on people like that?"

"Sorry."

That word again. Bakugou snorts to conceal his frantic heartbeat. "You sure seem full of bullshit apologies these days."

He can tell from the way Todoroki straightens his back that the allusion is not lost on him. The dual hero takes it in stride though, composure intact as he steps forward – Bakugou has to will himself to stand his ground and not back off like a frightened rabbit.

"Your Quirk is based off of your sweat, right?" Todoroki asks conversationally.

Just how long had the icyhot been standing there to know what Bakugou had been up to? For there's no way he would say something so random unless he knew the other had been training. _Well,_ f _uck me._ To have a Quirk like that _and_ the stealth to boot? Life is one unfair bitch.

Blissfully unaware of Bakugou's resentful musings, Todoroki presses on. "That means if you could regulate your body temperature, you should also be able to control the power of your explosions." Pensive eyes bore into Bakugou's, seeking approval. "Am I wrong?"

 _What's the deal with this guy?_

 _Why does he even care?_

Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou decides there and then, is a goddamn riddle.

"No shit, genius." He grunts out eventually, somehow knowing that rhetorical questions are not in the half-'n-half's vocabulary. "Easy for _you_ to say."

Todoroki hesitates visibly, mulling who knows what in that pretty two-tone head of his. Bakugou lets out an irritated sigh. He may have kind of a huge, pansy thing for the guy, but so help him, if Todoroki intends to embark on a lecture on thermoregulation, he will crack his skull open.

"Let's test my theory." Is what the icyhot says instead, before taking Bakugou's hands in his own.

The bomber's knuckles come to rest against the softer skin of Todoroki's palms as the taller boy holds Bakugou firmly by the wrists. It should come as no surprise that the half-'n-half's hands are the perfect temperature, not cold nor too hot -

\- it should, but it doesn't, because nothing in the world could have prepared Bakugou for this. Their hands are fucking _spooning_ , and he is expected to process this, how?

When Todoroki activates his Quirk, Bakugou's whole body tingles. Heat seeps through the dual hero's left hand, while cold seizes his right side and transfers straight to Bakugou's palm. The blonde finds himself shivering as the opposite vibes mingle inside of him, stirring up to the very last blood cell.

And then Todoroki presses his thumbs into Bakugou's palms, right against a bundle of sensitized nerves, and it's all the shorter boy can do not to whimper.

Bakugou looks up.

Todoroki's eyes are half-lidded, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. If he were not so engrossed in balancing his Quirk to perfection, he would probably notice the look of naked need in his classmate's eyes.

 _Don't._

 _Please._

 _I…_

Bakugou has no idea what he's begging for in his mind, but he's soon biting his lips to keep it a silent prayer, because Todoroki starts rubbing tiny circles in his palms, and suddenly it's too fucking much.

When those soothing hands let go, Bakugou feels his legs give away.

"There, try to light a spark now." Todoroki urges him quietly, no trace of turmoil on his perfectly collected face. "You should feel it's a lot easier to tame."

It's a good thing that he's been using his Quirk on autopilot for years, because Bakugou knows damn well he wouldn't be able to do it now if it required him even an ounce of lucidity. Nitro crackles on his fingertips, ever thirsty for action. Bakugou aims for the ground beneath, bracing himself for the detonation he knows will –

"What the…?"

This must be a joke. Nothing came out of his palms other than a small, pathetic spark.

Bakugou hasn't felt so utterly helpless since he first experienced Eraser Head's Quirk.

"The hell have you done to me?" Forgetting all of his unresolved Todoroki issues, he lashes out at the boy, eyes flashing dangerously. "If your stupid Quirk broke mine, I swear I'll – "

"You can definitely start a small fire with that little blasting power." Todoroki replies unfazed, the tiniest tinge of smugness in his tone Bakugou only picks up on belatedly. "Being a hero is not just about raw strength. You need to learn to control yourself."

These last words ring in his ears.

 _Surely he's not hinting at…_

Since when does Todoroki fucking _hint_?

"Don't you patronize me!" Bakugou barks out his frustration, which only dies down the moment a decent explosion finally detonates from his still shaken hands. Todoroki looks vaguely amused when the blonde sighs in relief – something that Bakugou would take great offense at, if the smile in the other's voice hadn't turned his brain to mush.

"Anyway, I just came to say dinner's ready." The icyhot turns around swiftly, though not so fast that Bakugou can't make out what he's muttering. "No thanks to you."

"I fucking heard that!"

Todoroki shoots him a not nearly apologetic enough glance over his shoulder and starts walking in the direction of camp. "It's fine if you're bad at cooking, but you could still have helped with the rest."

Bakugou finds himself tagging along and hollering after the other boy like a man possessed. "Fyi, I'm fucking great in the kitchen! Those dumbasses out there got no clue how to make decent curry. I only stood back so I wouldn't humiliate their sorry asses!"

"How noble of you." Is it just him, or Todoroki actually slows down a tad so that Bakugou can catch up? "I can't wait to taste your cooking tomorrow."

And if that sounds too much like a date for Bakugou not to get butterflies in his stomach all through dinner, well, at least he's not missing out on anything.

He wasn't lying – Class A's curry is really fucking disgusting.

* * *

Breakfast is uncannily peaceful this morning, due to some of the loudest dumbasses in his class being too distraught to be annoying.

"If I have to keep this up the whole week, I'm gonna kill myself." The lightning idiot declares dramatically, banging his head on the table for effect.

Well, so much for peace and quiet.

Pinky groans in agreement, her own head wobbling with sleep. "Who knew Aizawa-sensei could be so meeeeeean?"

 _Try, literally everyone?_ Bakugou snorts to himself, but knows better than to instigate his idiot classmates.

Sitting next to him, Shitty Hair stares with glassy eyes at his cereal bowl and mumbles tentatively, "We sort of brought this upon ourselves by failing our finals. Besides, it's good that we're getting used to a tight schedule. I don't see pro heroes catching much shuteye either."

His spurt of self-awareness is met with indignant cries of protest – "Oh, shut it, Kirishima!" – and Drooly's clumsy attempt at leaning over Bakugou to smack the redhead two seats down.

Bakugou makes a mental note to never sit in the middle again and hits the lightning moron back. "Sit still and eat your fucking breakfast, assholes!"

Todoroki picks that moment to make his entrance. Teal and hazel eyes, instantly drawn to the source of the commotion, meet Bakugou's across the dining hall. The two-tone head hesitates a fraction, then tilts his chin hello. Too stunned to remember he doesn't give a shit about Todoroki anyway, Bakugou nods back, the hairs on his forearms standing up with goosebumps.

Ok, so apparently they're doing this now. Saying hello. Sure. Why not. Bakugou can live with that.

What he can't do is suppress the faint sense of nausea that comes over him as Todoroki takes a seat at Deku's table, two hundred and seven bloody fucks away.

 _"I can't wait to taste your cooking."_

Tonight, Bakugou tells himself, and waits.

* * *

"Whoa, Bakugou, you're so good with that knife! It's weird."

"What do you mean it's weird? How can you people be so damn bad at everything?!"

Class A is once again at the stove, getting over a day worth of exertion by passing veggies around and rinsing dishes. His fairly disappointing training having sort of killed his determination to blow Todoroki away with his culinary skills, Bakugou chops carrots mechanically, not taking as much pleasure in the action as he used to when he'd make dinner at home with his folks.

Either he's getting homesick, which is simply not Bakugou, or…

"Look at that. He's not blowing stuff up."

He kicks Drooly in the shin for daring cut off his train of thought, then casts a furtive glance over his shoulder.

They're still there. Todoroki and the goddamn nerd, chatting by the sinks for what feels like an eternity now. Looking perfectly at ease with each other, not engaging in weird stuff like kissing and grinding and holding hands and being fucking half naked all the time.

Which is for the best, because Bakugou would rather not have to kill Deku in front of this many witnesses.

He grits his teeth and chops faster.

(Later, when the goddamn stew is served and everyone's stuffing their faces, Bakugou catches Todoroki flashing him what may be his very bland version of an approving smile. It's so small you wouldn't know it's there unless you were looking for it, so the fact that Bakugou blushes to the roots of his hair must have everything to do with that pinch of turmeric he added to the stew when Kirishima wasn't looking.

His ridiculously high tolerance for spicy food is a secret no one needs to be let in on for now.)

* * *

"Alright! Everyone draw to see who your partner will be!"

Sometimes it's the smallest things that send your world tumbling.

As small as, say, a shitty piece of paper.

"Huh?" Bakugou looks obtusely at the matching numbers on his strip and –

 _No way._

There is just no fucking way.

Todoroki pops up out of goddamn nowhere and peeks over Bakugou's stiff shoulder, his face predictably neutral. "Looks like we're together."

 _Don't fucking say things like that, you unbelievable –_

"Like hell we are." The blonde grunts, not willing to go down without a fight. Maybe fate thinks it's cool to mess with Bakugou Katsuki, but fate's got another thing coming.

For in no universe fictional or real is he ever going into the woods at night for a test of courage with the one person that makes him question his bravery day in day out.

"Listen up, Tail. Trade with me."

It doesn't even matter that Tail got the fucking pervy midget, who is most likely the last person you'd want to be partnered with for anything remotely associated with courage. Right now, anyone Bakugou can feel comfortable bossing around will do the trick.

But of course, hoping for some kind of cooperation in this goddamn school would be shooting for the moon. And they say _Bakugou_ is a shitty teamplayer.

He briefly considers making stupid Deku swap with him – he can totally see himself going solo through this lame ass test – but the implication of that particular trade leaves a bitter taste under his tongue he doesn't like one bit.

It's not that he's jealous, for fuck's sake.

He just makes it a rule to never do anything that might please Deku in any way.

So he sucks it up and follows that denim-clad back into the woods, sweaty hands buried down his pockets and heavy soles trudging on the dirt.

* * *

The forest is quiet but for the deafening thumping of Bakugou's heart. Which Todoroki can probably hear loud and clear, given his luck.

"According to this sketch Ragdoll made, Class B should be lurking along the outer ring of the forest. There will be checkpoints down the way so we don't lose track of – "

 _For shit's sake, just stop talking._

"Gimme that." Bakugou snatches the poor excuse for a map out of the taller boy's hands.

Todoroki doesn't look cross – Bakugou wonders if he's even capable of such an expression – but his lips twitch in a less than happy scowl. "You just don't ask, do you. Ever."

A chill runs up Bakugou's spine. One he has felt before, and has come to refer to as his double meaning alert. He shies away from the other's glance, but manages to sound smug enough as he bites back. "Why ask when I can take?"

If their little incident at the pool hadn't been the big fat ass elephant in the room before, it sure as hell is now. Bakugou can feel it hanging over their heads as Todoroki stops dead in his tracks, the air surrounding him going colder.

He adamantly refuses to address the shift in atmosphere and keeps walking. It's not like they must stick together to get this shit done, so he might as well go on ahead and not be caught in the midst of any girly drama the half-'n-half may want to –

"You are so strong, and yet completely oblivious to what your real strength is."

Bakugou's breath hitches.

He can't not turn now, dammit.

Fallen leaves creak under his sneakers as he spins around, feeling dangerously off-balance from just a quick look at the taller boy. Todoroki's eyes are more intense than Bakugou ever recalls them being, though it might be just the moonlight playing tricks on him. The pale light brings out the sharp contrast of the ice hero's two sides, which should probably look kind of eerie, but Todoroki pulls it off just like he does everything else. It would be infuriating, were it not so disarmingly beautiful.

Bakugou doesn't do beautiful.

"Ya ever shut your face, icyhot?" He growls, because _that_ is what he does. "Damn, you really get off on pulling this holier-than-thou shit all the time. You know riding daddy's coattails doesn't make you a pro hero just yet, don't you?"

Todoroki quirks an eyebrow, which is his personal equivalent of an eyeroll. "Here you go again, just like last night. You'd sooner lash out than take a friendly advice."

"I don't know if you got the memo, but we're not fucking friends."

"No, you're right." Todoroki deadpans quietly. "But I don't hate what we are."

Bakugou's insides churn.

 _What?_

 _What is this?_

He demands a fucking manual to read this guy.

And then, before Bakugou gets a chance to speak, a goddamn _head_ pops out of the ground, and it's so fucking random and unforeseen both of them actually flinch, which gives those idiots from Class B a field day and probably has them fail the test.

Even in his eternal striving for victory, Bakugou stops caring when, amidst the emotional haze he's drowning in, he makes out Todoroki saying, a tinge of worry lacing his tone:

"What's this smell?"

Sometimes it really is the smallest things that send your world tumbling.

* * *

 _"We've discovered one of the villains' target. Kacchan, you should try to avoid combat and stick to a group. I hope you can hear me."_

"I can focus, if you get out of my damn head." Bakugou grunts, dodging a tooth spear by a hair's breadth. "I can take care of myself."

The ice wall that shields him from a devastatingly quick side attack begs to differ. Todoroki actually glares at him. "Don't rush into this fight carelessly! Weren't you listening to Mandalay? They're here because they're after you."

 _After me._

 _Why in the world would they – ?_

"What do I care what anyone says?"

As the toothy villain stabs through the ice and steadies himself, Bakugou's palms crackle in anticipation of his next move.

Todoroki notices straight away. "We can't start fires around here because the flames would spread. Everyone could die if we aren't careful. Do you understand me?" His tone clearly suggests he'd be tackling Bakugou to physically stop him from being a jerk, were it not for the dead weight on his shoulders.

"Yeah, I get it, I'm not stupid."

"Then don't act like it." Mismatched eyes flash with a fierce emotion Bakugou can't put a name to. "Right now, our top priority is your safety."

These last words leave Bakugou feeling tingly all over. "This scum is throwing _teeth_ at us. I think you need to reassess your priorities, half-wit."

"Bakugou." Todoroki pins him down with a simple glance, those goddamn stunning eyes holding him in place like he was hypnotized. "Let me have your back. Just this once."

He can never say no to those eyes.

* * *

 _"I'll be fine by myself!"_

 _"We'll surround you as we walk."_

 _"I don't need any of your protection, dammit!"_

 _"Just make sure you keep up."_

 _"Don't tell me what to do!"_

It all sounds so… distant, now. Like a dream long gone.

When Bakugou comes to, there's a stitched hand holding him by the neck. He sees Deku reaching out to him, hears him cry out his name –

 _"Stay back, Deku."_

– that too feels unreal, his own voice coming from the pit of his soul, which is trapped in a very dark place.

(Bakugou vaguely remembers wishing that the half-'n-half bastard wasn't so expressionless all the time.

But that makes no sense, for the way he looks now –

down on his knees, wide-eyed and _broken_ ,

– is not something Bakugou could ever have wished for.)


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** **** SPOILERS **for the manga starting from this chapter. There's only a few hints here and there in this update, I guess, but the story will follow the manga storyline from now on, so, you've been warned.

Also, I am terribly sorry for the long wait, and for the fact that I don't feel like this chapter does a great job of making up for it. On a brighter note, next chapter will be - well, very much BakuTodo-centric, let's just say that.

Thanks so much for sticking around, please receive all my love and devotion :3 ******

* * *

If Bakugou said he never expected pro heroes to take an interest in his little mishap with the League of Villains (seriously, _what kind of fucker comes up with a name like that…?_ ), he would be flat-out bullshitting. After all, they are living in the heroes galore society, and he is a motherfucking Yuuei student. Not just any student either: Bakugou Katsuki, ranked 1st in this year's entry test, winner of the sports festival – as much as he resents the title with every living fiber in his body – was quite the celebrity even before the whole kidnapping shit came about.

That his idiot classmates would risk being expelled for, as they'd put it, _rescuing_ him (a notion Bakugou is still struggling with), now that's a whole different story.

Deku he can understand. The goddamn nerd's got a hero complex the size of Canada, revels in the spotlight and clings to their childhood memories for dear life. He also has the maddening tendency to completely ignore Bakugou's every attempt at keeping him at bay, which is why the blonde had practically signed up for the flea's oh-so-chivalrous appearance the moment he'd told him to stay the fuck away.

Kirishima is enough of a dickhead to pride himself on the (self-awarded) title of Bakugou's _main man_ , which entails an inhuman amount of nagging and a wide range of preposterous (again, self-imposed) duties – saving his best bro from kidnappers being only the latest addition to an ongoing list.

Even Four Eyes has some business being here, in Kamino fucking Ward, going along with this lame ass rescue plan. Invested with the class president holy mission and determined to fulfil his crippled brother's ambition to become the hero of the ordinary folk, or whatever, he claims he couldn't stay back and watch his friends jeopardize their future for – here he stops and bites his tongue, but Bakugou can easily figure how that thought goes on. It's only fair. He doesn't like the uptight nitwit either.

As they take off under the disbelieving eyes of Shigaraki Tomura and his cohort of worthless sidekicks, Bakugou takes one last look at the icy slab sprouting from the ground, an unvoiced question carving its way into his adrenaline-addled brain.

There is no easy answer.

* * *

In fact, there's no answer at all, for days on end.

When classes resume, Aizawa-sensei's little reprimanding speech tells Bakugou part of the story, though not near enough to sate him. He already knows Todoroki had been there with Shitty Hair and the rest. There is still no indication as to why the half-'n-half would even bother though.

At least now he can pay Kirishima back for the goddamn night goggles he bought for the sole purpose of _rescuing_ him. Bakugou has no idea why the redhead couldn't just ask Ponytail to make shit for him – then again, chances are he's too much of a rash, selfless idiot to even have thought of it.

"Huh? Money?!" Kirishima looks down at the outstretched hand, dumbfounded. "What the hell, man, you're scaring me…"

"Yeah, well, I'm cheap as shit, so this is painful for me too."

Blessed with a rare moment of awareness, the hardening hero holds Bakugou's stare, blinking slowly. "Ah… wait! Where did you hear how much I'd…?"

A gibberish-muttering Drooly waltzes past them right on cue, earning Bakugou's dismissive snort. "The dumbfuck always spills."

The sheer gratitude painted on Kirishima's face causes a pang of – guilt? shame? affection? – to seize Bakugou's stomach, to the point he has to physically vacate the scene before embarrassing himself (he might just have been on the verge of smiling right there).

As he saunters off, head buried in his neck, he still picks up on Hair for Brain cheerfully announcing: "Guys, I'm so sorry! It could never make up for it or anything, but… let's go out for some yakiniku tonight with this money!"

 _Sentimental morons will be sentimental morons_ , Bakugou scoffs to himself.

He wonders if the goddamn half-'n-half is going all the same.

* * *

The day All Might retires is also the day Bakugou realizes something's up with Todoroki.

They have all gathered together in the lounge room to watch the news, everyone from Class A secretly knowing that today shit was going to get real. Regardless of personal preference and devotion when it came pro heroes, there was no denying that a part of their lives would end with All Might's career.

That was all the more true for some of them, Bakugou muses, far from unaffected himself, taking in the sight of a shamelessly sobbing Deku. The goddamn flea is downright shaking, his not-as-puny-as-they-used-to-be shoulders quaking in Round Face's tentative yet gentle embrace.

Crimson red eyes drift back to the tv. The scrawny, beat-up figure of what used to be the symbol of peace fills up the screen as the fight against All For One is broadcasted for what feels like the hundredth time this week. Bakugou wishes people were not so damn nosy, taking morbid pleasure in watching All Might's legend crumble before their eyes again and again.

"Man, I still can't believe this is really happening." Low and uncertain, Kirishima's voice breaks the long drawn out silence, hence triggering an endless stream of lame ass comments Bakugou tries hard to shut out.

"You can say that again."

"Who knew All Might's true form was like that? I mean, I wouldn't even recognize him on the street now, and we've been having classes with the guy the whole year…"

"The tv said that the bulk was like a side-effect of his Quirk, and with that gone, his body just… shrank."

"Can you really lose a Quirk like that, though?"

"What, did it just… disappear?"

"How's that even possible?"

Any doubt Bakugou might have had on the true meaning of All Might's words dissipate the moment he sees Deku squirm in his seat, teary eyes downcast and wide.

 _"You're next."_

People in Kamino Ward took that as the n.1 hero's last stand, a warning, a threat to all villains out there. But Bakugou is no fool.

He always knew Deku's moves reminded him of someone – he just hadn't wanted to face the truth, because the truth fucking stung.

His skin prickles right then, and he is suddenly aware of mismatched eyes boring a hole in his skull.

Todoroki is standing right behind him, bending over the couch where Bakugou is sitting, his arms poised on the headrest. He's close enough that Bakugou could straighten his back a little and his hair would brush against the icy hero's hands – those gentle, slender hands that felt so strong and comforting in his.

They haven't spoken a word to each other since Bakugou has been back. Truth be told, they haven't really had a chance to, what with Recovery Girl practically hogging him to run all sorts of tests to assess his mental state in the aftermath of his traumatic experience – even though Bakugou kicking and screaming throughout the whole thing should have been enough reassurance that he was in no way traumatized. Sure, Hair for Brain and some other dumbasses who had apparently decided they liked Bakugou's company (Drooly, Tape and Black Eyes – if they thought their newly blossomed friendship would make Bakugou commit their names to memory, they could think again) had stopped by to see how he was doing, but Bakugou could never blame Todoroki for not tagging along. They are not friends, goddammit. They are -

 _"I don't hate what we are."_

Bakugou breathes sharply through his nose, a sound Todoroki must take the wrong fucking way, for he shifts a bit to the side, putting more distance between them, and forcibly looks away.

 _Jeez, this guy._

It drives Bakugou insane, how it feels like any tiny, minuscule thing can bring the two of them closer or draw them further apart. It's exhausting on a good day.

The newsreader's voice somehow catches his ear then, the metallic sound working its way into Bakugou's brain with an imperativeness that almost startles him.

 _As the era of All Might's undisputed supremacy draws to a close, the world salutes its new n.1 hero, Hellflame wielder Endeavor!_

"Huh? Endeavor is n.1 now? Just like that?"

"Wait, isn't that Todoroki-kun's dad?"

"Well, congratulations I guess, Tod – where'd he go?"

Bakugou doesn't need to turn around to know that the presence behind him is gone. The dark emptiness that has settled in the farthest depth of his soul since he got sucked in that goddamn warp grows just that little bit bleaker.

* * *

(He dreams of Todoroki again that night. Except there's no naked flesh writhing in pleasure under him, no glimpses of snow-white skin gleaming with sweat, no dilated pupils fixed on him conveying the raw evidence of a brutal desire.

There's a bar, and a chair, and bruises on pale wrists where those perfect hands were rope-bound.

Todoroki looks up at him through red and white locks, ashen lips moving to form words his hoarse throat can't let out.

Bakugou sees it all, but he can't do what he's asked.

Even in dreams, he's weak.)

* * *

 _"I'll be very straightforward with you, Bakugou-kun. We need you to make a statement."_

Principal Nezu had sat across from him in the faculty lounge, furry white hands ( _paws?_ ) entwined on the desk, Eraser Head and Vlad King on his two sides.

 _"Thought I'd said everything I knew to the police already?"_

 _"This is not about the investigation. I'm fairly sure you realize that Yuuei's position right now is quite… delicate."_ The principal had leant over the desk, those black round eyes of his that made him look like a fucking stuffed toy sparkling with – was that mischief? _"To put it in words that might be more familiar to you, we're in a bit of a shitstorm at the moment."_

Class B homeroom teacher Vlad King had looked positively astonished at the crude phrasing, Aizawa-sensei barely lifting an eyebrow in moderate surprise beside him.

Dumber kids than Bakugou would have caught on at that point. _"What do you need me to say?"_ He'd asked, a sense of dread he was powerless to fight back seeping right through his words.

 _"Nothing you wouldn't be comfortable claiming to be true, my boy."_

So here he is, sitting at the conference table, stuffed in a fucking suit one size too small for his broadening shoulders, stiffly tugging at his collar every two other seconds and wondering how good an impression would it make if the excess of sweat on his palms caused him to accidentally blast this shitface journalist's head off his neck.

"The images from the broadcast of your heroic rescuing in Kamino Ward clearly show that some young heroes-to-be, your fellow classmates, are actually to be thanked for you being here today, safe and sound back with the rest of us." Shitface is saying, his self-pleased tone riling Bakugou up to no end.

Are these dumbfucks really trying to take the credit away from All Might?, the blonde asks himself, nails digging into his palms as his fists clench under the table. "That's not what – "

"And it didn't go unnoticed that one of the Yuuei students taking part in your rescuing was promising young hero Todoroki Shouto, son of current n.1 hero Endeavor." The journalist presses on, seemingly undeterred by the murderous look on Bakugou's face. "Have you finally become friends with him, after you two clashed at the sports festival?"

 _So this is how it's gonna be, huh?_

There are white crescent moons on the back of Bakugou's hands where his nails have been denting the skin. As fucking ridiculous though the mere thought may be, it's plain to see that the press is wanting to make this about the Todorokis just to go with the latest trend and kiss Endeavor's majestic ass. Well, Bakugou is having none of this crap.

"I'm not friends with him, nor with any of those dumbasses you saw on tv." He bites his tongue hard to prevent any worse cuss words from escaping his lips, very much aware of Principal Nezu's benign eyes on him. "And I didn't need rescuing in the first place…", he hesitates, briefly wondering whether he's willing to cross this line for the school's sake, before deciding that yes, whatever, he can cradle his pride some other day, "… but if I did, that would be All Might's doing, and no one else's."

Flashes go off as snapshots of Bakugou's feral scowl are taken, low murmurs breaking out across the conference room. Shitface thankfully shuts the fuck up, Bakugou notices, the livid look on his dull features bringing a smug smile on the blonde's face. Before he dares consider himself off the hook, a female reporter butts in.

"How do you feel about All Might retiring from the hero scene? Did it come as a shock to you, as it did to all of us, to find out what his true form was all along?"

Bakugou can practically hear the motherfuckers holding their stinky breaths, sitting on the edge of their seats, their pens and recording devices midair, lusting for declarations to twist however they'd see fit in tomorrow's newspapers.

 _Good luck tryna twist this._

"If you people think All Might's less of a hero because he's _thinner_ , then you don't even have the goddamn right to be asking questions on the matter." He replies, leaning into the microphones to make sure he gets his message across loud and fucking clear. His eyes meet Principal Nezu's across the room, and the fluffy hero gives him a thumb-up Bakugou takes as his cue to conclude this goddamn joke of a conference. "That's all you'll be getting from me," and there's a not-quite inaudible ' _assholes'_ leaving his lips as he pulls back from the microphones that earns him a half snort from Aizawa-sensei's general direction.

* * *

Kirishima's pestering begins remarkably late in the afternoon, Bakugou will concede. He has a nagging suspicion the redhead is being more considerate around him because of the whole 'my best bud got kidnapped and possibly tortured while I was doodling penises on the edges on my notebooks in remedial class' thing, which should really piss him off, except Bakugou is inclined to feel grateful for anything that can get idiots off his back.

"You totally kicked ass at the conference, man!" The hardening hero beams at him, one arm swung casually around Bakugou's neck as the touchy-feely moron can hardly keep his paws off any unfortunate human being he happens to be talking to. His voice takes on a mock hurt tone as Kirshima adds, only half-jokingly: "Even though you were kinda cold to the rest of us."

Bakugou jerks the other off his shoulders as he does every fucking time, because, seriously, what's a man gotta do to be left alone around here?, a dangerous glare plastered across his face. "The hell did you expect, Hair for Brain? I didn't ask you to do shit, did I?"

"That's not it. All I'm saying is, you could at least have acknowledged Todoroki's role in this story."

"And that would be…?"

The expression of utter disbelief on Bakugou's face throws Kirishima off nearly as much as realizing his potty-mouthed friend has just got to the end of an – admittedly short – sentence without swearing once. "Um, I dunno? You mean, beside planning the whole rescue mission to begin with?"

Suddenly the ground feels horribly shaky under Bakugou's feet. "You're shitting me, right. Why the fuck would he…?"

"Caught me by surprise too, If I gotta be honest, but Todoroki was worried sick about you, man." Kirishima fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt, looking somewhat uneasy as he carries on, his words dripping with what Bakugou detects as guilt. "I didn't feel like staying back and twiddling my thumbs any more than he did, so I was on board straight away, but he came to me with the plan first." Red bangs flutter against shark-like features as his head shoots up to give Bakugou a piercing look. "He didn't tell you?"

There's a deep stillness in Bakugou's world, an unearthly silence muffling his ears, his entire being clasped in a freezing vice.

He knows this feeling. It has stayed with him since that goddamn warp.

Bakugou doesn't like _not knowing_.

"Where is he?" He manages to choke out eventually, Kirishima eyeing him warily. "Haven't seen his stupid shortcake head all day."

"Been packing, I guess. I think Midoriya said he's going home for a while." The knowing grin stretching Kirishima's lips suggests the obnoxious redhead understands a hell of a lot more than he lets on. "You may still be able to catch him before he leaves, if you go now."

Bakugou puts a commendable amount of energy into glaring back at his shitty friend, but it comes off as pretty empty since the next thing he knows he's storming up the couple flights of stairs leading to Todoroki's room, skipping every few steps, heart pounding in his throat like a blasted yearning teenager.

Which he kinda is, in a way, alright, goddamnit.

* * *

When banging on the half-'n-half's door spewing threats through his teeth and hissing at any student who has the misfortune to pass him by proves futile, Bakugou finally convinces himself that Todoroki is gone.

He staggers down the stairs, reaching for the handrail to steady himself on wobbly legs, his feet dragging him blindly around. It matters shit where he's going, as long as he keeps walking. He doesn't think he could trust himself to school his face if he stayed in one place long enough for someone to approach him, to be honest.

It shouldn't be surprising, really. Overreaction is Bakugou's second name. Shame on him for thinking that would only apply to anger.

 _"Believe it or not, I could care less what happens to you."_

Everything had been clear at the time. Todoroki wanted nothing to do with him, was grossed out by Bakugou kissing him and wouldn't give a damn if the guy dropped dead before his very eyes. Hurtful though that might have been – and it's not to say that Bakugou had hurt over something so trivial, mind you – it had _made sense_. And Bakugou could do that. He likes things that make sense.

Todoroki teasing him, smiling at him, touching him, helping him with his Quirk, wanting to keep him safe, _saving_ him, only to go back to ignoring him, shying away from his gaze, never speaking, never _telling_ – none of this makes sense anymore. True, the guy has hot and cold in his fucking name, but that is no reason to act like he was bloody bipolar.

And maybe it's just his post-traumatic bullshit talking, but Bakugou is not sure how much more of the emotional rollercoaster he can take.

His feet come to an abrupt halt as he finds himself at the very bottom of the dorm staircase. Feeling like a colossal nitwit for losing track of his surroundings like that, he pokes his head out to peek inside the lounge. He isn't just going to turn on his heels and go back where he came from with no apparent reason for getting down here in the first place if there are witnesses. Things have been awkward as fuck at school since he's become 'the kid who got snatched by villains'; god knows he doesn't need people whispering behind his back for any more reason.

Peppermint hair and alabaster skin hit him like a punch in the teeth.

He's marching into the common room before he can think better of it. "Oi, Half-'n-Half!"

Todoroki is standing by the entrance door, a small suitcase at his feet. He's wearing the same faded blue jacket he had on that night in the woods, Bakugou can't help but notice, only it seems to hang loosely off his sagging shoulders now. He didn't know it was physically possible for a healthy teenager to lose that much mass in less than two weeks, yet the icyhot somehow has.

 _How the fuck did I not notice before?_

"Bakugou." Todoroki's voice betrays his surprise for a second, but regains confidence in a flash. A barely-there smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I saw you at the conference today."

Bakugou makes a show of rolling his eyes in mock exasperation – which conveniently gives him the chance to break eye contact and possibly get his _fucking shit together_. "If you're gonna give me the whole 'you coulda said thank you' speech, I'm warnin' ya, just save your breath."

"That was not my intention." Todoroki adjusts the backpack strap on his left shoulder to keep it from sliding down his bent arm (Bakugou thinks the damn thing wouldn't be falling in the first place if the half-'n-half hadn't gotten so fucking rawboned). "What that journalist tried to pull was awful. You really put him in his place."

"Of fucking course I did, 'm not an idiot." The blonde spits quite hatefully, before doing a verbal double-take. "Wait, you mean you noticed?"

"It was kind of hard to miss how he was going out of his way to make it look like father and I did all the work, just because we're the next hot thing."

Some twisted part of him has Bakugou laugh internally knowing that, if Todoroki had the slightest idea what the word 'hot' coming out of his mouth sounds like to the blonde's ears, he would rip off his own vocal chords. "Fucking hypocrites, all of them." He agrees on the outside, a scornful smirk arching his lips. "Your old man must be overjoyed."

"That's hardly the word I would use." The dual hero shrugs half-heartedly, the sorry-not tone to his voice openly at odds with the token sympathy in his words. "To become n.1 down to All Might retiring, and not because he got to prove his superiority, was a terrible blow to his ego." Mismatched eyes give Bakugou a wistful, almost shy look. "You of all people should understand that."

Biting back the 'yea, you would know something' that begs to come out, Bakugou lets his gaze travel down Todoroki's figure – not like _that_ , jesus – and ultimately land on the boy's suitcase. He could make an educated guess about how long the icyhot is going to be away based on the size of his luggage, but he suspects it would make him a complete creep to even try, so he takes the casual route instead. "Heard you're going home for a while."

"I am. Father does not approve of how Yuuei handled the situation with the League of Villains barging in on our training camp, so he decided I should train for the provisional license exam at home, under his supervision."

"What about you? Do you agree you'll be better off with him?"

Todoroki's previously neutral expression falters. "I just think maybe he has a point this time. If I were stronger, better… if I had been faster that time with… nothing would have happened to you."

Bakugou can't – won't – believe his goddamn ears. "Don't fucking give me this shit. You can't seriously be so self-centered as to blame yourself for that."

"That's not just it." Todoroki deadpans quietly, his voice steady in spite of the way he fiddles with the nametag attached to his suitcase telling a different story. "What All Might did… how he was exposed, and how this led to the end of his career… I saw your face when the news got out he was going to step down."

 _He saw my – he was_ looking _at me?_

Even amid what sounds like a full-fledged admission of guilt, Todoroki's eyes never leave Bakugou's, never retreat, serious and proud in that way that makes Bakugou's blood seethe. "I'm aware of how much All Might means to you… and to Midoriya, and everyone else, I suppose. None of this would have happened if I were a better hero. That's why I have train harder and do everything in my power so that I don't ever fail anyone else the way I failed you."

There's no evidence of true bitterness in the statement, but the underlying matter-of-factness of the whole speech has Bakugou shake like an autumn leaf – a very angry, very emotional leaf. "This failing crap is a load of bullshit. If anyone should have been stronger, that's me. I let myself get fucking snatched away like a goddamn damsel, and all I could do was get in All Might's way and almost get him killed, all because of how fucking weak I was." His voice rises gradually to the point of a hoarse shout, before going down again to barely above a whisper. "If you and Hair for Brain hadn't come for me, shit would have really hit the fan." Bakugou sums up, positively sulking. "Don't think I'm fucking happier about this than you are."

The ghost of a startled expression crosses Todoroki's unfairly attractive features for a second. It's gone soon enough, the well-practiced poker face slipping back in place effortlessly. "I guess we're both going to have to train harder and become better versions of ourselves."

"Damn straight, half-ass."

"I'll see you at the provisional license exam then."

"You'd fucking better."

Silence. Hating every inch of his skin as a telltale blush creeps up his neck, Bakugou shuffles his feet, eyes darting in all directions to spare him the further embarrassment of having to hold the taller boy's stare. Much to his dismay, Todoroki doesn't seem to be having the same problem, hazel and teal eyes fixed unabashedly on a very specific point of Bakugou's face, somewhere between his nose and -

Todoroki motherfucking Shouto is staring at his _lips_.

Bakugou's cheeks flare up right on cue, blood pumping faster in his veins.

 _The hell is this guy's deal?_

 _Why can't I tell?_

 _Why can't I_ ever _tell?_

At least the deafening beat of his heart muffles the sound of his shameful stutter as Bakugou blurts out: "Y-Y'know, I don't see how you plan on becoming a hero if you're not gonna take credit for those you save." He clears his throat, hoping that will help him sound haughty as intended. "You don't reach the top by being _humble_ , half-brain."

"I wasn't being humble." Todoroki replies almost instantly, looking totally unfazed at being caught staring. All that ice in his system got him nerves of steel, Bakugou will have to give him that. "I just didn't want you to think I'd save you out of guilt."

 _Tch._ A full-toothed grin stretches the blonde's lips. "That's good to hear. 'Cause I'd beat the shit out of you if that was your reason."

When Todoroki gives no sign of having caught on to the unvoiced request, Bakugou curses under his breath and barks out. "Well? You really need me to ask, dumbass?"

That pretty mouth opens in a silent 'o' that makes something tighten in the shorter boy's chest. "Based on your answer just now, I thought you would know why."

Bakugou thinks he might just be beating his personal record of number of eyerolls in a single conversation. "Just indulge me, will you?"

"I couldn't… stand it."

It's the hands that give him away. Even though his voice is firm and his eyes never waver, Todoroki's hands clench around the backpack strap and the suitcase handle respectively, the whitening of his knuckles speaking volumes to a watchful observer – which Bakugou very much is right now.

"Stand what?"

Todoroki's phone picks that moment to buzz alive. The half-'n-half reaches into his pocket, casts a quick look at the screen and presses the end call button with less than steady hands. "I have to go."

Later, Bakugou will be grateful for whatever desperate force drives him to lunge forward and grab Todoroki's wrist. "Not so fucking fast, icyhot!"

Later.

For right now, he has no fucking clue what he'd wanted to do.

Panic crosses his face as Todoroki's quizzical, vaguely alarmed gaze falls on him.

 _Think._

 _Kiss goodbye?_

 _C'mon, say it. What's so fucking hard about this. Kiss goodbye?_

 _He was_ staring _at your_ lips _._

 _Just say it. Kiss goodbye?_

 _It's two goddamn words. C'mon._

But he's a fucking coward, again and again.

Relief washes over him with almost painful intensity as Todoroki makes the decision for both of them. The half-'n-half's wrist rotates gently in Bakugou's vice-like grip, his hand closing around the blonde's, long, deft fingers trailing down the other's wrist. It's feather-light, yet so breathtakingly intense that Bakugou's breath catches in his throat.

His voice sounds awfully strained when he grumbles: "Be sure to work your ass out and eat some real food, halfwit. Dun fucking waste away on me, ya hear me?"

Todoroki's hand squeezes his briefly, the gesture closer to a promise than the words themselves. "You got it."

Then he's off, waving casually in the air with that same hand that held Bakugou's with impossible, inexplicable care.

* * *

Todoroki kisses him for the first time in his dreams that night.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **** Yeah, I'm not dead. Surprise, surprise!  
Apologies for the ridiculously long wait. Holiday came around, big heat wave hit hard and ate away at my ability to focus on writing.  
You'll be pleased to know next chapter is already half done, though, so it shouldn't - hopefully - take quite as long.

Thanks to everyone reading and supporting me with their lovely reviews. You, my fair ladies, are the reason why I even bother. ******

 **SPOILERS** for the manga. You've been warned!

* * *

Bakugou stares at the screen until his vision goes blurry.

"I'm not up there." He hears a voice that sounds suspiciously like his own saying – except it's not possible that those words would be coming out of his mouth, because, seriously…

God, he's really fucking failed.

"I'm not up there!" Escapes his lips in a growl, every single joint in his body shaking with disbelief and something akin to _horror_.

Even Kirishima, ever the chirpy asshole, can't seem to muster the energy to cheer him up this time round. "Jeez, man, I'm so sorry..."

"This is a fucking joke." Bakugou grits his teeth, seething. "There's gotta be a mistake. Sugar Bulk and Navel and _Grapes_ all passed. How the fuck…?"

"Well, if it's any consolation to you, Todoroki didn't make it either."

Hang on.

Squinting to clear his vision through the red haze of his outrage, Bakugou glances up at the screen again, his eyes running down the list frantically.

The second realization that Kirishima has spoken the truth sinks in, he's whipping his head around to locate two-tone hair in the crowd.

Todoroki is standing a few rows off to his right, his posture rigid as he, too, stares transfixed at the newly licensed heroes list. A pang of sympathy – a sentiment Bakugou is not overly familiar with – stabs him in the gut as the icyhot swallows thickly and bows his head in acceptance of the verdict, eyes unreadable as usual, but a telltale twitch in his jaw line.

Then it seems to dawn on Todoroki as it has on Bakugou, for the peppermint head shoots up and brusquely turns around to seemingly scan the crowd.

Bakugou looks obstinately away.

Now is not the time nor the place to engage in a painstaking staring contest with his wee bit too long-suffered crush. He's not sure he could handle finding out what pity looks like lurking in those mismatched eyes.

* * *

(There's an unbearably awkward moment a bit later, when all his idiot classmates are happily swarming towards the bus, and Todoroki sneaks up on him like he's apparently so fucking keen to do, a quiet: "I'm sorry you didn't get your license" on his lips, which leaves Bakugou feeling like blasting his head off and throwing up at the same time.

"Shove your fucking commiseration up your ass, halfshit. You failed too."

The flash of resentment in the taller boy's eyes tells Bakugou he's amply succeeded in making him regret ever thinking a conversation right now would be such a brilliant idea. "I'm well aware."

Then Todoroki hurries past the mean, bitter, impossible blonde deep down no one feels sorry for and catches up with good, nice, kind Midoriya and his boy scout pals, who will certainly do a better job at being all supportive and sympathetic and all the shit he needs and was so foolish as to seek in Bakugou of all people.

Shame on him, really.

Bakugou can't be good for Todoroki, when he's clearly not even good for himself.)

* * *

One thing he has to give the peppermint asshole, though, he's goddamn hard to deter.

The first day of his humiliating cleaning duty bullshit, Todoroki walks up to him, hands in his pockets, affecting disinterest so poorly it pains Bakugou's sight. "What are you going to do about the supplementary lessons?"

"Shut your mouth, icyhot." He bites back because, why not, before scrunching up his face in thought. "What do you even mean, what I'm gonna do? They gave us the fucking schedule, we just drag our asses there and bite the goddamn bullet, I s'pose." Something in the way Todoroki just stands there stupidly, drinking in his words with no sign of seeing their obvious reasonableness, spurs Bakugou to add a wary: "You got better ideas?"

It almost doesn't surprise him when the dual hero utters a casual: "I was wondering if we would be going together" – _almost_ , as in, Bakugou tightens his grip on the broomstick till a splinter pierces the skin on his palm.

"Tch. Unless your loaded ass would like to provide a fancy driver in a tux and a goddamn Rolls, we got li'l choice but to walk there."

If it were anyone else, one might even say Todoroki looks pleased. Of course, there's no telling for sure with the fucking beautiful robot face. "I'll see you down in the lounge after lunch then."

"Whatever, now piss off."

Bakugou downright loathes how often he finds himself checking the time after that.

* * *

He supposes it wouldn't be entirely wrong to say that this whole remedial classes mess is bringing them closer, in a way. Or, as close as can be with Bakugou constantly seeing to it that the walls around his persona sport threatening spikes on the top to resist every one of Todoroki's impromptu assaults.

"Are you ever going to tell me what that fight with Midoriya was about?"

Case in point.

The hell is this coming from, anyway? Bakugou reflexively cringes. "How is it any of your business, Half-'n-Half?"

"It's not. I just figured it must have been pretty rough, for you two to get suspended."

"Yeah, well, y'know me. Always out to draw blood."

Todoroki gives him a subtle, assessing look over his textbook. "Whatever happened, it's clearly done you both good. You're far less tense around each other than you used to be. You seem even friendlier to him, kind of."

Bakugou feels his right eye twitch dangerously. "You know nothing, asshole."

And, truth is, he _could_ leave it at that. It's not like the fucking half-'n-half should expect any different, either, since Bakugou shuts him down on a daily basis.

But something, _goddammit_ , something in the way Todoroki's gorgeous fingers toy with a dog ear as the boy makes an admirable effort to keep his eyes on the page, even though Bakugou can tell his senses are all focused on him, wrenches a guttural this-is-so-not-an-apology out of his throat.

"Look, even if I wanted to tell, I can't. This thing happened with All Might and I'm…"

A teal eye pierces right through him, shining underneath long, graceful lashes. Bakugou sucks in air audibly. He can't rat on All Might after all. Not even for _him_. "Just fucking drop it. Okay?"

And of course, somehow, Todoroki gets it. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

The sheer honesty in his voice makes Bakugou's cheeks hollow out and burn right after. How he manages to just sit there with all this stupid, warm, bubbly shit inside is a wonder in itself. "You always say the most embarrassing shit, you know that?"

Todoroki looks back quizzically, red and white eyebrows (he's just noticing now they match his hair, how infuriatingly appropriate) arched to frame that lovely picture that is his face, but miraculously gives up pressing the matter.

It still is one lengthy, awkward study session.

* * *

They generally meet at the Heights Alliance front gate twenty minutes or so before classes begin – the time may vary depending on whether the hideous little foam of joy that embraces Bakugou on some blissful mornings (when the thought of all the quality time that lies ahead of them is enough to make him forget that he doesn't, in fact, enjoy hanging out with the icyhot) enlarges enough to overshadow his natural foul-temperedness.

Shortcake head sure is taking his fucking sweet time showing up, today. When he finally makes his dazzling appearance, tousled hair and droopy eyes, it's all Bakugou can do not to hit him for daring go out looking like the very definition of bedroom material.

"Oi, Todoroki! The hell you've been up to? It's so goddamn late not even a fucking magic carpet I'm pretty sure you own somewhere in that rich boy house of yours could get us there in time! If you think I'm gonna let myself fall behind because _you_ 're slacking off, then you're even dumber than I thought!"

Yeah, just like that, shower him in early morning trademark Bakugou verbal assault, that'll teach him to be sex on two legs.

Wait, _what's that_ , why is he, the hell is, what, what's the stunned look about?

It takes Todoroki a good couple of seconds to get over the shock and articulate: "That was the first time you ever called me by my name."

 _Oh._

Well, no shit.

Bakugou sputters, too incredulous to be pissed at himself yet, as Todoroki falls into step with him, stubbornly tall and bed-warm and _tall_ as usual. "Is that all your stupid frozen ears heard?"

"It was all that mattered."

Todoroki will definitely give him one very blasé heart-attack one of these days, just you watch.

* * *

"If you could get an internship like everyone else, where would you go?"

Here it goes again. For a smart boy, a book kind of boy even, Todoroki gets bored with his homework incredibly quickly. If it were Kirishima, Bakugou reasons, an exasperated exhale quivering on his lips, he would already be smacking the idiot's head and yelling at him to go the fuck back to work. The fact that he can't bring himself to touch Todoroki outside of spar will make for a catastrophic downfall of his grades in time.

"What's the fucking point in even discussing this shit, halfbrain? You're just gonna make yourself more miserable." _And me_ , Bakugou mentally adds, though all their heart-warming couple time he has to soldier on through with a blank face has surely numbed him some in the feelings department.

"I honestly doubt I could get any more miserable than I am now." Todoroki gives him a tiny, sad smile that claws the door of Bakugou's heart open.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

 _Defo numbed, yup._

"You're an idiot." Bakugou states curtly, looking up from his notebook against his better judgement. "Was it not you who told me how lucky we were that they're giving us a second chance so soon after we flunked the exam?"

Todoroki shakes his head slowly, fiddles with the highlighter in his hand and falls silent. Just as Bakugou is starting to delude himself into believing they will actually be able to get some studying done now, the halfwit speaks again.

"My father was very disappointed when he heard I had failed to obtain my license, while pretty much everyone else in my year succeeded. I didn't think mentioning you would have made a difference," Todoroki adds apologetically, proving to know Bakugou well enough by now to want to preempt his outbursts rather than face them head-on.

Little does he know the fiery blonde has embarked on a totally different, darker train of thought. Bakugou's voice is thin and sharp, like barbwire. "Did he… do something to you?"

Silence. Then, a tentative: "Father is under a lot of pressure at the moment, what with the whole world comparing him to All Might any time he apprehends a villain or rescues civilians. I guess I picked the worst possible moment to be a total disgrace to our family."

"You are not a disgrace." The words erupt from his mouth before Bakugou can even coherently form them in his mind, let alone bite them back down. "You're not anything that man says you are."

The pencil he'd been holding with far more strength than required snaps in half between his thumb and forefinger. Hell, way to look unaffected. Bakugou sucks his teeth, lets the wooden pieces drop unceremoniously onto the desk. How the fuck does he always end up with splinters in his hand every time the half-'n-half goes sentimental on him?, he absentmindedly wonders, a grimace crossing his face as he stretches his fingers to assess the damage. At least Todoroki has the decency to keep any comments to himself, and just gives him a look laced with something Bakugou might take for concern, if he didn't know better (and if that wasn't a dangerous as hell assumption to make).

"If you are a disgrace for failing to get your license, then so am I, right, dumbass?" Bakugou argues at last, figuring the only logical leap that might explain his overly emotional reaction would be to make this about himself. That he can do. That he's most certainly brilliant at. "And I sure as fuck don't feel like that about myself, so you shouldn't either. Okay?"

Silence. Again, this is getting annoying.

Bakugou breathes a long, drawn-out sigh. To think Shitty Hair says he lacks patience. "Headshot's agency. I could use some practice vs stealth types, and he was fucking badass back in Kamino Ward." He risks searching Todoroki's face for a sign that they're on the same page – or at least that he's not so fucking dense as to lose track of a conversation like a senile old man. "Happy, you nosy shit?"

The soft smile he finds there is unlike anything Bakugou has ever seen on Todoroki's face. It _drains_ him.

"Thank you."

Bakugou's heart skips a beat, or two, or twenty.

* * *

On the last day of supplementary classes (a moment Bakugou had always known would come, so he's not sulking over it or anything, really, he's not – he just happens to be in a bad mood for entirely different reasons), Todoroki calls a halt on their way back to the dorm.

"Wait up, Bakugou. Let's stop for some soba."

"What, right before dinner? What are you, a kid…" Bakugou grumbles, but drags his feet after the pretty head all the same.

 _If he's a kid, I'm a fucking pup._

They stand in line for a few minutes, the soba kiosk Todoroki picked being one of the most popular in town. Part of Bakugou wants nothing more than to make a scene over having to wait and just ditch the peppermint brat there and then; too bad this wise side of him is severely outnumbered by the ones that feed off Todoroki's happiness and eagerly yield to his every whim just to be with him, because being smitten is oh so much fun.

Bakugou must have spaced out, lost in contemplation of his own private miseries, for he fails to notice Todoroki rummaging in his pockets. He doesn't however miss the deep frown blooming on the scarred face, which looks somewhat paler than usual as their turn comes and they approach the counter.

"Never mind. Let's go." Todoroki says hurriedly, and the way he subconsciously gives one last longing glance to the today's special poster (cold soba seasoned with fresh ginger) before turning around to leave suddenly tells Bakugou everything he needs to know.

He's seen that very face on Drooly, moocher extraordinaire, too many times not to recognize the signs.

"You're fucking hopeless." Bakugou mumbles under his breath and reaches into his pocket.

Todoroki looks at him like he's from another planet as the blonde drops some change on the counter and places his order – one ginger cold soba – only to collect it and hand it over to the taller boy with a none-too-graceful swing.

Even though he deliberately avoids eye contact, there's no way Bakugou could ignore how those mismatched eyes are practically glowing with gratitude.

"Thanks, Bakugou."

"Yeah, don't get used to it, rich boy." He grunts back, hands shoved down his now considerably emptier pockets as they resume walking. "This is the first and last time I buy you dinner."

"That's not entirely true. You've bought me dinner before."

 _Huh?_ "The hell are you on about?"

Todoroki smirks over his takeaway box, looking a bit like Cheshire cat who's just had the meal of a lifetime. "That night when we went to that yakiniku restaurant and Kirishima paid. Technically it was your money, so that counts too."

Now, here's something Bakugou hadn't anticipated. Quickly recovering from befuddlement, he utters a grumpy "Does not", before adding in what he prays is a nonchalant tone: "Didn't know you'd ended up going."

Raising the chopsticks to his mouth all too happily, Todoroki gulps down a mouthful of noodles before nodding. "I expected you to be there too. It was your homecoming after all."

"Shut up. Just because you're a bunch of sappy shits, doesn't mean I gotta play along with your nonsense."

Todoroki doesn't reply straight away. The knowing little smile tugging on his lips makes Bakugou wish he did, though, because he can feel his face growing redder by the minute and almost explode when the half-'n-half makes a small sound of contentment in the back of his throat.

"This soba is delicious."

"Huuh-uh."

* * *

He's putting his stuff away after literature class when Todoroki beckons him to join him in front of the notice board.

"The dates for our remedial exam are out. We're up on April 20." When Bakugou offers no sign of having heard him, the half-'n-half gives him a sidelong glance, head cocked to the side. "Is something the matter?"

"Nuh. Just thinking my license will make for one hell of a birthday present."

"You're turning fifteen on that day?"

"You mean sixteen, and yeah, that's the day." Bakugou scratches the back of his head casually, then scowls when he notices the look of utter bewilderment on Todoroki's face. "What?"

"You are _older_ than me?"

"Why the fuck do you sound so surprised?"

"No reason." The icy jerk moves away from the notice board and towards the blonde, his voice nonchalant as he airily adds: "I suppose I just struggle to believe you possess the emotional maturity that comes with being my elder."

 _Self-conceited asshole._

Endeavor's son raises his chin slightly as he stands right next to Bakugou, effectively towering over him. "You're shorter, too."

What an infuriating son of a –

"The hell does that have to do with anything – have you met Recovery Girl?" Bakugou barks out, feeling every bit like one of those lame cartoon characters as he finds, much to his horror, that his arms are flailing at this sides and his manly shout sounded way more like a shriek.

Todoroki does a frankly quite spectacular job of ignoring his protests and inches closer. The sudden invasion of his personal bubble has Bakugou's breath catch in his throat, then come out in a dying man wheeze when Todoroki _touches his chin to Bakugou's forehead_.

"Yup. A solid couple inches."

 _Shit, shit, shit._

 _Stand back, you fucking moron._

The scent of Todoroki's freshly shampooed (conditioned?) hair is an assault to his nostrils Bakugou simply doesn't know how to handle. Their chests are nearly touching too, he realizes with a shudder, the half-'n-half's shoulders bumping Bakugou's gently.

 _Hell no._

He's not going to pop a boner in the middle of the goddamn hallway, no fucking way.

He shoves Todoroki away with more force than strictly necessary, a surge of bright red mortification crawling up his neck as he realizes his biceps are shaking. "Get outta my hair, you clingy shit."

Todoroki steps back obediently, but the funny look on his face tells Bakugou he's been nowhere near subtle about his mild emotional breakdown.

* * *

On April 19 Bakugou gets a text (and if his entire being stops dead in its tracks when that name pops up on the screen, well, it's only because he had forgot he'd given the half-'n-half his number in the first place).

 _"What's your favorite color?"_

He spends fifty-four minutes dwelling on all possible different replies and the rest of the day regretting not going with any.

* * *

The last time he'd had this many rampant brats over for his birthday, Bakugou muses in the throes of nostalgia, he had been a kid himself, and thoroughly enjoyed bossing his little minions – featuring a rather tamer Deku – around.

Now though, as the fucking monkeys running away from him in fear might just jeopardize his goddamn license exam (take 2), his liking for the future generations is wearing dangerously thin.

On a brighter note, Bakugou observes with an inner snicker, stern-faced Todoroki surrounded by brats who laugh at his 'willies' is truly a sight to behold.

They bicker with practiced ease while trying to figure out how to tackle this lame ass fitness of character test. Bakugou would swear he even hears that bald wind jerk from Shiketsu comment on the increased camaraderie between Todoroki and "the angry dude who blows stuff up" (though he's probably imagining the tinge of jealousy in his tone, because, c'mon, the odds of having two very male heroes-to-be crushing over Endeavor's son in the same room? Not fucking likely).

It feels like this day is never going to end, until it somehow does, and they're being awarded their long-suffered provisionals. Thank fuck for that.

The pinnacle of this circus of bullshit, Bakugou cynically considers, is reached when father of the year Endeavor publicly congratulates his beloved son – who, the blonde notices not without a hint of pride, flat-out tells him to shove it.

 _That's my boy._

"Congratulations, Bakugou. You did well, _eventually_."

Todoroki cracks that tiny, mischievous smile of his that Bakugou has seen a lot more of as of late – something he couldn't be more grateful for.

"Yeah, well, you weren't exactly killing it at first either, halfwit." Bakugou actually grins, feeling something akin to relaxation wash over him in what is a quite rare occurrence. He'd rather not entertain the possibility that his current contentment might have more to do with the beautiful sparks in bi-color eyes than with the outcome of today's exam per se.

When he catches Todoroki's gaze wander off to where Endeavor is standing, doing PR and shaking hands in that revolting demeanor that has Bakugou question the very idea of going pro, he adds in as neutral a tone as he can manage. "Did your old man proud, huh?"

The smile on the scarred face becomes somewhat strained, and Bakugou feels like kicking himself. Good thing Todoroki appears to have something more pressing on his mind than realizing how much of a big-mouthed dick he is.

"Listen, will you… if you're free now, would you go somewhere with me? There's something I'd like to show you."

 _You and I and everyone and their mother know I'd go anywhere with you, princess._

Bakugou says, not in so many words, and they're off.

* * *

Todoroki leads him to the nearest bust stop, which adds to the shock of the invitation itself. They get on the bus soon enough and slump into the first couple of seats available, the dual-haired beauty looking out the window through the whole ride. Bakugou can't recall the last time he was this quiet this long around anyone, except maybe in class. He just can't seem to come up with anything to say beside _so, taking me to your private lair for a congrats fuck, icyhot?_ , or something equally disgraceful, so he just clams it and drags behind Todoroki radiating unease.

They've been on the bus for as long as half an hour when Todoroki leaps to his feet, throws a hasty "That's us" Bakugou's way and makes for the exit.

He doesn't recognize this part of town, Bakugou realizes as they get off. There's little else other than very plain-looking houses and the occasional playground, he soon finds out, so he's somewhat surprised when Todoroki halts right in front of a tiny shop with no sign out front.

"Stay here, I'll be right back."

 _No one tells me where to…_ nevermind, he's gone. Bakugou opens and closes his mouth very eloquently, before slumping heavily against the nearest wall, muttering soft curses under his breath. It's dead quiet but for his slightly accelerated heartbeat, and the wait feels never-ending.

At last, Todoroki emerges from the gloomy shop, a forest green cardboard box in his hand and an indecipherable look on his face. He does seek Bakugou's eyes, though, his expression never faltering as he stretches his arm to hand out the box.

"Here."

 _Wait._

 _What?_

Bakugou's hands automatically move to receive the box, then freeze stupidly upon remembering they got _no fucking clue_ what to do now.

Sensing his reluctance, Todoroki explains in a way that is probably meant to sound soothing, but only serves to make Bakugou _tingle_ from head to toe. "I wanted to get you something for your birthday, and I… got this idea…"

Unbeknownst to their brain-dead owner, Bakugou's fingers make quick work of the tiny ribbon holding the lid in place atop the box and delve hungrily inside, moving the wafer thin wrapping paper out of the way to reveal the treasured item beneath.

A bright red silk necktie.

There is no way in hell Todoroki could miss the way Bakugou's hands are shaking as they pick up the gorgeous piece of cloth and hold it reverently midair. The half-'n-half's voice is steady and smooth as he elaborates:

"I remember you saying you don't wear the school uniform's tie because it is a hindrance in battle. So I asked this very good tailor my family has known for decades to make this one for you. It looks just like a regular tie, but the fabric is super light, and it's supposed to go along with your movements, not get in the way of them. Also it's pre-tied, so it will come off very easily if need be."

Todoroki worries his bottom lip between his teeth, looking vaguely sheepish for the first time since his little stunt began. "You wouldn't tell me what your favorite color was, so I just went with red to match the school uniform. This way you can switch ties and no one will be able to tell the difference."

His smile back in place at the mention of mischief ( _really, this kid's mind…_ ), the icy hero concludes with a soft and gentle: "Happy birthday, Bakugou."

It's the last straw.

Feeling like every single button in his brain is being pushed full force, sending his nervous system into overdrive, Bakugou heaves a deep breath and desperately tries to restart his language functions, which regrettably seem to have shut down on him at the moment.

"You – I… don't…"

 _Screw this._

"Screw this." He says matter-of-factly, before forcing out in a painfully honest, if tortured, murmur. "Thanks, Todoroki."

He almost drowns in relief when the taller boy just nods, clearly harboring no intention to pressure him into adding more or wearing the tie then and there or anything equally awkward. At least the icy sissy is not a goddamn auntie yet, Bakugou mentally rejoices. Feeling a bit more like himself, he lays his carefully folded present into the box and ventures lightly:

"So, do we just walk back to the bus stop, or – "

"Bakugou – "

" – you got me a copter, too?"

Todoroki breathes thickly, the ghost of something passing across his face Bakugou can't decipher until it's too late.

"That time at the pool…"

 _Oh no._

 _Not this now._

 _Please._

Hazel and teal eyes bore right through his skull, searing and wild.

"… why did you kiss me?"


	9. Chapter 9

"That time at the pool… why did you kiss me?"

Even though he did see it coming, he _did_ , Bakugou can't help but freeze on the spot, his blood a chilly stream running through his veins.

"Where the hell is this coming from now?" He sounds like he's just swallowed a golf ball, only it's his utter fright clogging his throat, giving his voice this croaky pitch that he doesn't recognize as his own.

Todoroki cocks his head to the side, his brow slightly furrowed. He won't stop fucking staring, _really_ staring, and Bakugou feels the sweat on his palms turn into icy crystals under the relentless scrutiny. "You honestly thought I'd forgot?"

 _Thought_ may be a bit of a stretch – _hope_ though, yeah, that he totally did. "It's not like you ever – you did sorta act like it never happened." Bakugou mumbles under his breath, cringing internally at the defensiveness in his tone.

Todoroki looks genuinely baffled and, unless wishful thinking is seriously going to Bakugou's head, vaguely hurt too. "I already apologized for that, didn't I?"

Any bystander could cut through Bakugou's skepticism with a knife. "Did you?"

"When we were at the onsen. I said I was sorry for being unfair to you. You don't remember?"

Oh, for the love of –

" _That's_ what you meant?"

"You couldn't tell?"

He can't fucking believe they're having this conversation.

"How could I ever – " Bakugou has to fight the urge to give his unearthly frustration some kind of physical outlet, like ripping his hair from his skull or kiss the goddamn moron senseless. Whatever works, really. "Whadda you think I am, psychic? You're a fucking sphynx all the time!"

He takes a drawn-out, shaky breath, swallows thickly, counts to ten in his mind.

 _Focus._

"Answer this. Why did you go to all the trouble of planning my rescue, huh?"

Todoroki squints, the idiotically perplexed look doing nothing, unfortunately, to mar his disgusting prettiness. "That's not – are you trying to turn tables on me?"

"Stop answering everything with a fucking question, dammit!"

Bakugou's outburst leaves the other boy quiet for a while, likely mulling the words to say in his head. The head in question being Todoroki Shouto's, what it comes up with eventually is idiotic enough to make the blonde want to strangle him with the tie he just gave him.

"It's just… most of the time it feels like you can hardly stand my presence. I don't understand why you would…"

"Same goes for you, asshole." An exaggerated eyeroll precedes Bakugou's ultimate surrender. "Look, I did what I fucking did for the same reason I do every goddamn thing in my life. Because I wanted to. It doesn't get much deeper than that, so let's not make a big fat ass deal out of it, 'kay?"

 _Yeah, right._

A smirk he's powerless to suppress tugs on Bakugou's lips when Todoroki whines childishly. "That explains nothing."

"Well, too bad, 'cause that's all you're getting until you spill." The grin dies on the blonde's face, leaving a stony expression in its wake. "You said it wasn't guilt, so fucking tell me already. Why'd you come for me in Kamino?"

This is it. The question that's been plaguing his mind since he saw that icy slab erupting from the ground right under Shigaraki Tomura's nose. Bakugou just can't go on not knowing.

The acute awareness of how much is at stake with just one simple answer leaves him almost lightheaded.

Depending on Todoroki's answer, he might just decide to…

"Because… even if it was too late to be a good hero by then… I thought I could try to be a good friend."

 _Friend._

The word pierces through Bakugou's core, going straight for his heart, clearly destined to scar.

He can still faintly make out Todoroki's self-righteous voice amidst the white, mushy fog his brain has become – "Your turn now. Give me a proper explanation." – but he can't bring himself to care anymore.

"What's the point?"

"I'm sorry?"

Bakugou jerks his head upward, hissing through gritted teeth. "If you just wanna be my friend, what do you even care why I kissed you?" Crimson eyes narrow to slits as the most hideous thought yet shocks through his mind like lightening. "You afraid I'm gonna jump you in class, or something?"

At the very least, Todoroki looks exasperated by the mere idea. "Don't be ridiculous." There's a subtle shift in his expression, as something akin to unease twists his features for the briefest moment, before he schools his face and says in as neutral a tone as he can muster. "That… was my first kiss."

Bakugou hates that he has to smother the jolt of tenderness clenching his chest. Absolutely hates it. "Well, sorry I fucking ruined it for you."

He also hates how his heart jumps in his throat when Todoroki shakes his head wistfully. "I'll ask again. Why did you kiss me?"

 _You really gonna make me say it, halfshit?_ "I thought I told you. Because I wanted you."

"You said 'it'. That you wanted 'it'. Not me."

God, if Bakugou had known how much of a disgusting hairsplitter stupid icyhot could be he would have never let himself develop shit for the guy. "Isn't that the same goddamn thing?"

"Not in my book, no."

"Fine. What do you want me to say, _Todoroki_?" And he stresses the use of his last name, since it seems to matter so fucking much that he has started to call him that. Because now they're headed on the path that leads to a beautiful friendship, and friends call each other by their names, right?

Well, fuck that two billion times.

Bakugou's voice is thin and scathing, his eyes running down the taller boy's body unabashedly.

 _Gonna fucking show you friendship._

"Would you like me to say that I want you? That I crave you? That I lust after you, that I dream of your fucking perfect body every other night? That you're all that gets me off these days? That I'm obsessed with the idea of kissing you again? That some days I can barely stand to look at you for fear I might shove you up against the nearest wall and finish what I fucking started that night in your room?" He clicks his tongue hatefully, shoulders sagging. "Don't ask questions you dun wanna hear the answers to, dumbass."

Several different emotions chase one after the other in Todoroki's rounded eyes, morphing one into the other, shock giving way to embarrassment and disbelief taking the shape of denial, till it all mashes together to generate a blazing bundle of scorching – _can you believe this guy?_ – rage. "Alright. Thank you for your honesty, I guess." He spits out the words like they're toxic and turns on his heels to face away from Bakugou.

 _What the fuck is he pissed for now?_

Before the blonde can feel thoroughly swindled and demands his money back – because, c'mon, he has just _confessed_ to him and this shitface looks practically insulted – Todoroki is already strolling down the street, hands buried in his pockets, back stiff as a board.

"We'd better head back, it's almost time for dinner." The half-'n-half says airily, eyes trained on the road ahead.

Bakugou's fingers subconsciously clasp the gift box and nearly crumple the pretty necktie inside in the process. Biting back a curse, he follows.

* * *

He honestly has no fucking clue how every goddamn soul he runs into tonight has come to know about his birthday (though he could probably make an educated guess given how the lousy nerd has the decency to blush when an obscenely loud cry of _For He's A Jolly Good Fellow_ breaks out in the mess hall). As it is, he keeps getting assaulted by people a bit too keen to celebrate to dismiss easily, though not for lack of trying on his part, and sometime between Kirishima's persistent armlocks and Pinky's high-pitched dancing suggestions, Bakugou caves.

So yeah, whatever, they can throw a little party after dinner, and since Bakugou has been adamant he won't have any cake and candles bullshit, there's no need to make this about his birthday specifically. They're all entitled to some nighttime funk anyway, as Drooly puts it, after the whole Eri-chan ordeal, plus there's still their provisional licenses to celebrate. And where is Todoroki-kun anyway?

"He didn't join us for dinner either." Lousy Deku points out, brows furrowed in that idiotic hyper concentrated expression of his. "I texted him to ask about his exam, he just said it was okay and that I'll see him tomorrow. You guys think we should go check on him?"

"Nice shitty idea, dumbass." Bakugou growls against his own better judgement, instantly drawing all eyes on himself. Good fucking call.

"You don't want us to go get Todoroki-kun, Kacchan?"

"I wonder why is that?"

"Are you two still fighting?"

"Did something happen after the exam?"

Hair for Brain's inquisition hits so close to home Bakugou feels himself heat up like a fucking boiler. "Mind your own goddamn business." He snaps fiercely, then puts his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Fine, hell, do whatever the fuck you like. Knock down icyhot's door, rouse him from his sleep after the day he just had. See if I care."

Except his words kind of sound like he does, oddly enough, care, which Bakugou suspects some of his classmates notice. Good thing they value their lives better than to call him out.

"You know how deeply I concern myself with class spirit, guys, but I'm afraid Bakugou might have a point this time." Four Eyes concedes, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, and Todoroki-kun is not much of a party person anyway."

"It's funny though." Kaminari pipes up, the virtual lightbulb popping over his head making Bakugou want to smack him. "Our Bakugou's usually the one hitting the sack before sunset…"

"It's called _having a healthy sleeping schedule_ , shithead!"

"… but this time he's still up and about even though he and Todoroki pretty much had the same kind of day."

"Well, it has been proven that different people react to high stress levels in different ways." Ponytail jumps in, resting her chin on her palm in a pensive pose. "Now that I think about it, Todoroki looked slightly worked up last night. Maybe he was having test anxiety?"

Bakugou suspects he may just have an inkling of what Todoroki was fretting over, and that would have little or nothing to do with the license exam. He bites his tongue and thinks of the necktie he tossed on the bed after storming into his room, not quite having the heart to trash it straight away like he probably should have.

"I'm just going to make sure he's alright." Deku stubbornly declares, springing up from his armchair. "There's still the slim chance Endeavor showed up at his son's exam and said something that affected him one way or another."

 _You don't say, nerd._

Bakugou 'tch'es under his breath and crosses his arms over his chest, but clamps his mouth shut. It's not like he gives two shits anyway.

* * *

(The lousy nerd does manage to drag Todoroki down eventually, the peppermint beauty looking every bit like someone who should be having a good night's sleep rather than partying. Bakugou spends the rest of the night stressing over whether he should try to force eye contact or just altogether ignore the guy, all the while despising this 13-year-old schoolgirl version of himself with every bone in his body. Before he knows it, Todoroki is excusing himself and claiming to be worn out, only to vacate the scene as soon as it's polite to do so.

Their eyes never meet once.)

* * *

With spring rolling around and Yuuei mid-term exams lurking behind the corner, Bakugou finds himself yet again submerged by his hopeless self-proclaimed friends' pleas and cries for mercy.

"C'mon Blasty, just a couple hours! It won't take up too much of your time, I swear! If you just lemme tag along when you're with Kirishima you won't even notice I'm there!"

"How can I not notice your Pikachu ass when you just won't SHUT THE FUCK UP?"

"So meaaaaan, Bakugou!"

"Man…" Scratching the back of his head, a hesitant look on his face, Red Riot bites his lip before venturing quietly. "You know, Bakugou, he sort of has a point this time. Since you've agreed to tutoring me…"

"That can change real fast!"

"… what difference does it make if there's three of us instead?"

"Three's a fucking crowd." Bakugou mutters gruffly, his nose scrunched up in annoyance. "We ain't ever gonna get any work down with these bums around." He whips his head to shoot a meaningful glare at the other two idiots loitering behind him, wearing the worst casual looks Bakugou has ever seen. "'Cause I'm assuming you want in too, huh?"

Good thing Pinky can't get any fucking pinker. "You really should feel flattered, Bakugou! We're only turning to you because you recognize your worth!" The horned girl stammers, hands in the air to evoke a sincerity that doesn't quite reach black eyes.

"You're only turning to me 'cause you have no other fucking choice." Bakugou grunts matter-of-factly, then tilts his head lazily towards the desks behind him. "PonyPosh too busy for you scum?"

"Booked into the next millennium." Tape admits, scrawnyish shoulders sagging in defeat. "We tried Iida-kun too, but he's on patrol duty to cover up for his brother."

"Good fucking luck then."

"Pleaaaaase, Bakugou!" It's Kaminari's turn to whine in his pathetic impression of a kicked puppy. "There's gotta be something you'd want in return! Anything," the electric hero adds quietly, tongue clicking as an afterthought, "within reason."

Red eyes dart instantly toward a very specific corner of the busy classroom.

Instincts, Bakugou mentally notes as Todoroki Shouto enters his line of sight, are a fucking bitch.

And it's not like it hasn't been getting better. 'Cause it has, in a way. The wet dreams are only few and far between now, and the fact that they're practically _not talking anymore_ sort of makes it harder for his insides to churn whenever mismatched eyes glance in his direction, since the goddamn half-'n-half is clearly going out of his way to keep even that from happening.

He still wants so fucking much though.

 _That's well beyond reason territory right there._

"Just promise you'll leave me the fuck alone all summer." Bakugou capitulates, his eyebrow twitching dangerously at the unnecessarily cheerful "YATTAAAA!" that earns him.

The insistent prickling of his skin tells him Todoroki among others turns to see where the noise came from. Self-aimed irritation seeps through his lips in a testy sigh.

"My dorm, 8 sharp. You're late, you're out."

* * *

It takes him approximately thirty-two minutes to regret his momentary lapse of judgement for the rest of the school year.

"Hang on guys, this goddamn marker has dried out again!" Drooly moans, shaking the guilty highlighter between two fingers.

"Why don't you just get a new one and stop stalling us, jeez!"

"It's my only pink one, and Prissy-sensei here insists we use color coding…"

"HAAH?" Leaning over the book-ridden coffee table, Bakugou grabs the insufferable blondie by the front of his t-shirt. "My dorm my rules, shithead. Fucking like it or leave it."

"I know, I know, sheesh…" Kaminari lifts both hands in surrender, then mumbles something about touchy assholes who will pull rank at the first given chance. "Anyone got a spare marker?"

When the question is met with a collective shake no, Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes through gritted teeth. They're never gonna get this fucking stupid tutoring session done unless he saves the day. "Go fish in that green box over there, 's where I keep my stash."

But of course, some silent appreciation would be a little too much to ask for, wouldn't it?

"Bakugou has a stash?" Kirishima quips, thus urging Ashido and Sero to join the teasing.

"Of _stationery_?"

"I'm so glad I've lived to see this day."

Bakugou smacks the sticky smartass on the back of his head. "Keep the shit up and we can make it your last one."

He hears Pinky murmur a subtle, "Color coding or not, he's still super scary", which makes him feel good about himself for a split second.

That is, before shit hits the fan.

"Yo, Bakugou, you own a tie?"

The conscious part of his brain knows what just happened without even looking. His instincts kick in first though. "Where the hell d'you…?!"

There, dangling from Kaminari's ink-stained fingers, is the silk tie Todoroki gave him on his birthday.

"Wrong fucking box, dipshit!" Bakugou growls, his temples twitching with the effort to play this as cool as he physically can without giving himself an aneurism.

And for one moment, he actually thinks he's pulled it off. The other three morons don't look all that interested in the lightning asshole's finding, barely sparing him a glance.

"It's just the school tie, isn't it?"

"Sero, my friend, you see, but you do not _observe_ …"

Something in the sparky blonde's sneering has Bakugou's blood freeze. He's getting a shitty feeling about this. "PUT THAT DOWN, Pikachu!"

"Well, it is red."

"Everything's always red with you, Kirishima!"

"DON'T MAKE ME FUCKING COME OVER THERE AND HANG YOU ON A NOOSE, YA HEAR ME?!"

Kaminari tuts, infuriatingly unafraid. "Look closely, peeps. This thing's classy, not the polyester crap Yuuei makes us choke on every day." He jiggles the tie around his wrist in demonstration. "And it's pre-tied, see? No 10-minute morning routine of messing up the knot, asking for help and getting your friend's hands tangled up with yours in the process."

Kirishima's cheeks flare up to match his hair color as he folds his arms over his chest defensively. "That only happened once."

"So, gonna let us in on your secret stripper life, Bakugou-chan?"

The sun-bright grin on the electric dork's face finally pushes Bakugou over the edge. He leaps up, sending the books in his lap flying across the floor. "I'll blow your head up and dump your body where no one will find – "

"Hold on, it's engraved!"

"Is it?"

Bakugou stops dead in his tracks, eyes blown wide.

Is it?

"Ooooh, juicy!" Black Eyes springs up as well, dashes to Kaminari's side with a shit-eating grin. "Let mommy see."

"These kanjis…"

"Spell 'Katsuki'."

Kirishima sounds just as genuinely surprised as Bakugou is feeling. "Your first name, man?"

The roaring thunder of his blood throbbing in his temples is all the warning he gets before, for the first ( _second_ , his Todoroki-related memories supply) time in seven years of disciplined training, Bakugou briefly loses control of his Quirk.

It's just a small explosion, nothing his room hasn't seen before, but it's enough to get these pussies' panties in a twist. Pinky shrieks, Drooly crackles and, before Bakugou can realize it, white bands of tape are shooting out to restrict his hands, painfully bending his arms behind his back.

"WED GO O' MI FIS HIFANT, FASSHOLS!"

Oh, great, there's tape across his mouth too.

"Sorry man." Sero shrugs, looking nowhere near apologetic. "Can't let you blow the whole dorm up for us to clear in the morning."

 _Slowly_ , Bakugou decides, searing hot sweat soaking through the tape around his wrists, _gonna end you frog face slowly_.

"Soooooo," the ominous smirk on Kaminari's lips returns full force, "who're you on first name basis with, playboy?"

"Bit hard for him to answer that with tape on his mouth, guys…" Red Riot points out, in that half-sorry voice of his that makes Bakugou half-want to only half-slaughter him.

"Safer this way, his bite is worse than his bark."

"Could it be family?" Pinky pipes up, scratching one of her horns in thought. "A birthday present from his nanny, or something?"

"Your family give you ties on your b-day?"

"My dad bought me a hat once…"

Every Quirk, Bakugou reasons, eyes darting to the silky tie still firmly in Pikachu's grasp, has got to have limits.

"Doesn't count, you're a chick."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean, you ugly misogynist?!"

If he can concentrate his sweating in just the right spots, the glue will…

"How could any of what I just said come off as misogynist?!"

"Focus guys, I don't think my tape will hold for long."

 _Damn right it won't, fucktard._

"I say it's a mystery lover." Drooly states with an air of finality. "Possibly a stripper."

"The heck's up with you and strippers?"

The stupid clowns are too caught up in their little banter to notice him working the tape loose.

"Mineta is soooo rubbing off on you, man."

Bakugou breaks one arm free.

"You guys think so?"

A loud BANG resonates through the homey quarters. Black Eyes and Sparky squeal like frightened guinea pigs, while Kirishima and Tape cover their blinded eyes with a pained moan.

"Jesus, Bakugou…"

"Do you get a new room every time you do this?"

The explosive hero rips the tape off his mouth, hissing when it _fucking hurts_. "All you scumbags out before I get blood on my walls."

"But our tutoring…!"

"FUCKING OFF THE TABLE NOW! Get lost."

The floor creaks under the weight of heavily dragged feet as dumb squad here move to exit, Bakugou making sure the door doesn't hit them on the way out. He even trips Tape as he's passing, the frog face dickhead barely catching himself in time ("Fair enough," Bakugou hears him murmur once he's out).

"You know, Bakugou…" Kirishima stops on the threshold, one hand resting on the doorframe. There's a quirky little smile on his lips that has Bakugou's hackles stand up like a street cat's. "You should wear that tie at the end of the year party. Would be nice not to look all shabby on a special day. I'm sure whoever gave it to you would appreciate it too."

Because he has a reputation to live up to and also because he's not entirely sure he is capable of dealing with his friends' prying in any other way, Bakugou flips the redhead off and shoves him out, a string of profanities on his lips.

He does, however, wonder.

* * *

(The engraving, as one good hour of meticulous cross-legged inspection reveals, makes absolutely no fucking sense.

Even though they got the kanjis in his first name right, the whole thing looks like whoever was in charge of the inscription got bored halfway through and left off before adding his last name. The place they picked for the imprint is weird too, a tiny pad of rougher fabric sewn on the inner side of the tie – like it wasn't meant to be seen from the outside?

 _What's the point in customizing shit if not for show?_ , Bakugou wonders at his wits' end.

He drapes the tie over his eyes as a blindfold and plunges into red and white sleep.)

* * *

 **A/N: **** So, Bakugou got friendzoned and Todoroki got pissed. Or isn't this what happened at all? :D

If you'd like to give me your interpretation of things (particularly Todoroki's reaction to Bakugou's little speech), I would love nothing more than to reply in pvt to whomever gets it right.

Thanks so much for the lovely words (I'm looking at you, **myherobakugou** ), but mostly for sticking around and bearing with my atrocious updating schedule.

Next chapter's a biggie, scout's honor. ******


	10. Chapter 10

Bakugou wraps the hem of the tie around his middle finger, chews on a mouthful of stale tuna sandwich.

This party, to exactly no one's surprise, is a fucking drag.

 _Guess that happens when you leave wusses in charge._ True, if Bakugou hadn't automatically rejected Pinky's suggestion that he might like to help with the buffet, now he wouldn't be struggling to keep his food down, and the vases along the perimeter of the lounge room wouldn't be overflowing with half-chewed bits of raw takoyaki his least polite classmates keep spitting out whenever Round Face and the other girls aren't looking.

For the eleventh time in the last hour or so, Bakugou tugs at the collar of his black button-up and lets his eyes roam about the room.

There he is, the reason why he even fucking bothered going to this shitshow in the first place. Dazzling in his white overshirt and loose-fitting cargo pants, Todoroki is standing beside one of the large windows overlooking the front garden, the shadow of a smile stretching his lips as he nods to whatever brand of bullshit his best bud Deku is pouring over the pretty two-tone head. _He_ isn't wearing a tie, Bakugou can't help but notice, a sour look on his face. In fact, the infuriating halfshit hasn't dressed up at all, probably confident in his ability to charm any goddamn soul by mere looks only.

To be fair, it's not exactly like Todoroki ever tries to get people to like him, but the explosive hero is not feeling it in himself to be fair at the moment.

Seething internally, Bakugou brushes off Shitty Hair's attempt at small talk and makes a beeline for the restroom. He's just going to take a leak, have one more round of sickeningly sugary punch and crawl back to his dorm for a dreamless liquor-induced sleep.

It would kind of help if the punch had a single drop of booze in it.

He's making his way to the sinks after finishing his business when the sound of a hitched breath alerts him to the presence of someone else in the doorway. His hero training paying off, Bakugou resists the urge to turn around and looks up to the mirror instead. He almost scoffs when his eyes fall on the reflection of none other than Todoroki Shouto looking like a deer in the headlights, because seriously, this is just his luck.

The awkward standoff comes to an end as pretty boy clearly resolves that the lingering cold war between them is no reason to deny his bladder's needs. Bakugou turns on the faucet and rests his hands under the cool water spray, never losing sight of the other's movements as Todoroki disappears inside one of the stalls.

If he takes just a bit longer than necessary to wash up and dry his hands, well, sue him.

He's ready to give up and leave, the cruel sparkle of hope quashed in his chest, when Todoroki finally comes out. He's fully regained his composure, Bakugou notices not without a tinge of amusement, and purposefully makes eye contact as he approaches the sinks himself.

"Is that the tie I gave you?"

 _You know damn well it is, asshole._ "Why, want it back?" Bakugou smirks hatefully, putting a great deal of effort into sounding as nasty as possible. "Turns out some fucktard stitched my name on it, you might have a hard time regifting it."

He can tell his words produced the desired effect by the way Todoroki flinches, brows knitted together in a less than happy scowl. "You know that's not what – "

A phone rings. It's a catchy indie tune Bakugou hasn't heard before, nor is he particularly excited to hear now.

It's almost endearing to witness Todoroki's hesitation as he racks that pretty head of his trying to picture the possible outcomes of his predicament. Bakugou can practically see the cogs turning as the insistent chirpy tune makes it harder for the icy hero to get his priorities straight.

When he ultimately picks up, Bakugou's heart sinks.

 _Wrong fucking answer, honey._

He doesn't even consider staying around to wait out the call. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he 'tch'es softly and storms out, the hideously happy ringtone stuck in his brain to taunt him for hours on end.

* * *

(Yes, he's going to sleep now, no, that's not up for discussion, _no_ , he doesn't give a crap if there's cake and _no_ , he doesn't need Kirishima or anyone else walking him to his door, because he's not sick and also not a fucking _girl_.

Thanks a bunch.)

* * *

Bakugou is lying awake on his back in the dark, fingers interlocked behind his head, when his text tone pierces the silence.

His shaky hands, blessed with a form of second sight his brain regrettably lacks, somehow know what is coming.

 _"I lied. Can we talk?"_

It takes him several minutes to manage a coherent reply through the deafening beat of his heart.

 _"Bench by the small fountain."_

* * *

 _Big fucking moon lady up there, huh?_ and _Still fucking chilly for a summer party, innit?_ pretty much sum up Bakugou's inventory of weather pleasantries. God, may Todoroki not be here to talk the weather.

He was too much of a nervous wreck to sit like a proper human being, so he's perched upon the back of the bench, foot tapping incessantly on the seat. He sure hopes it comes off as cool and uncaring, rather than pathetically juvenile.

Bakugou checks his phone for the umpteenth time. This whole cool thing is really coming back to bite him in the ass. He was so busy trying to conjure a flippant and blasé reply to Todoroki's cryptic as fuck text he completely overlooked specifying a time for their meeting. He just sort of assumed that _right this fucking instant_ would go down well with the half-'n-half, since this was his goddamn idea to begin with, but you know what they say about assuming. Bakugou has had enough misunderstanding bullshit to last him a lifetime.

The rhythmic dripping of the water coming down in small rivulets from the center of the fountain both lulls him and gets under his skin. He knows why he picked this spot – outdoor for fresh air, away from prying eyes, star gazing shit, plenty of places to let the eyes drift off to if eye contact becomes too much to bear – but right now he's feeling like the world's biggest douchebag waiting by himself in a dim lit garden. At least in the lounge he'd have telly.

He's staring down at his shoe laces for a change when an all too familiar silhouette creeps up, casting a dark shadow over his feet. The unmistakable squeaking of high tops on the gravel has Bakguou's breath catch in his throat against his better judgement.

"Sorry about the late hour."

Somewhere between phubbing Bakugou and texting him in remorse, Todoroki lost the overshirt. He is wearing a plain white t-shirt which hugs his well-defined pecs and biceps, the faintest outline of nipples visible through the fabric. Suddenly Bakugou feels self-conscious about the rugged red tank top exposing his own scar-riddled arms, and snorts in retaliation. "You're gonna need more than your rich boy upbringing to impress me, icyhot."

There's no trace of bitterness in Todoroki's tone, only some kind of lingering tiredness. "You don't know the first thing about my upbringing."

Now would be the time to say it. Say that Bakugou knows, about the scar, and the nightmares, and growing up in Endeavor's clutches, and the self-loathing on the bad days. Say that, even though his own household was a boringly loving one and no amount of Mitsuki's harassing could ever compare, Bakugou _gets it_. How it feels like to never be enough, constantly striving for more. Striving to reach out. To reach…

The explosive hero shakes the dark thoughts out of his head and leans back a little, arms open wide in his best impression of the cocky ass people make him to be. "Blow me away then."

He instinctively stiffens as Todoroki takes a casual step forward, a soft sigh slipping past his lips. "If you're trying to piss me off, I'll let you know that ship sailed a long time ago."

Bakugou grunts in derision, stretching to accommodate his arms on the back of the bench. He prays that pretty boy doesn't see it for what it truly is – a desperate attempt to put some distance between them. "Yeah, I noticed the silent treatment. Very mature." A tight, callous smirk rips across his face like a wound. "Let's cut to the chase, huh, Halfie? What did you lie to me about?"

Todoroki takes one more step, stopping when his knees hit the edge of the bench. "I never said that I lied to _you_."

Bakugou sucks in the air harshly to help swallow the lump in his throat. He tries – and spectacularly fails – to ignore the fact that the man he's wanted with every living cell in his body is practically standing between his thighs.

"You wanted to know why I planned your rescue."

Something about this moment feels ridiculously significant, so much so that Bakugou refrains from running his big damn mouth for once and simply holds Todoroki's stare.

The overwhelming openness he finds there threatens to break him in two.

"I don't know how to do this."

Bakugou wills himself to stop breathing. He's dead sure that even the slightest puff of air could shatter this fragile sense of suspension, so he lets himself grow dizzy as his blurry eyes sink into heterochromatic gems.

Todoroki heaves and leans forward, something close to sheer terror simmering behind delicate lashes. "So let's try it your way."

Somewhere through his addled brain Bakugou thinks he could really use that air now, but Todoroki is crashing their lips together.

Bakugou's eyes fall shut, a strangled sound trapped in the back of his throat. Todoroki's lips move tentatively against his. The tips of their noses bump in all the wrong ways, and the other's hot breath leaves Bakugou shivering from head to toe, but this, _they_ are like nothing he's ever even got close to imagining. He almost jumps out of his skin at the feel of Todoroki's hands gently covering his own on the back of the bench. One hand feels like a pleasantly warm blanket draped over his fingers, but the other is so cold Bakugou winces and curses himself at the same time.

 _Way to go, make it look like you don't want him touching you with that gross Quirk of his. Jesus goddamn fuck, you useless piece of –_

His inner stream of profanities is cut off abruptly when Todoroki, far from than breaking their contact, squeezes Bakugou's hands with a desperation that makes something snap inside of the blonde.

Then a gentle tongue is darting out to wet his lips, and Bakugou yields, utterly conquered.

He lets the little worked up sound that's been building up in his chest resonate in the space between them, almost moaning in delight when it reverberates through Todoroki's own breast – much like a cat's purring. He is suddenly extremely grateful for the seat supporting his wobbly legs as the taller boy hums back and swipes his tongue more deliberately across Bakugou's lips. Asking for something that's been his all along.

Their tongues finally meet, a raging clash of hot, impossibly hot spit and velvety skin. Bakugou feels his eyes roll back in his orbits as Todoroki runs his thumbs to encircle his wrists, a subtle declaration of possession that, coupled with the soft bite he leaves on the blonde's lower lip, tastes every bit like a promise for more.

Then they're parting, Todoroki pulling back to straighten himself, his hands still grazing over Bakugou's, not quite ready to let go just yet. Bakugou suppresses the mind-numbing urge to lean in and lets out a long, ragged – he mentally flinches – breath. Crimson eyes search hazel and teal ones for any trace of lingering emotion (any sign that Todoroki might be close to a mental breakdown, just in case), but find nothing more than a subtle twinkle bringing them out on the flushed face.

"You wore the tie."

At least his voice is hoarse, Bakugou gloats, ignoring the slight twitch in his pants the sound elicits. "You knew I would."

Maybe it's the raw honesty on his face, or the way his legs close around Todoroki's hips to draw him in, keep him in place. Or maybe it's all the mushy hormonal crap still in circle after their kiss. Either way, Todoroki smiles that little, warm, childlike smile of his, and Bakugou drinks it in like oxygen, vital and intoxicating. If he doesn't smile back (which his social persona is deeply thankful he doesn't), it's mostly because his lips are still paralyzed with tingling bliss.

"My sister is coming to pick me up in the morning."

At first, the words Todoroki has just uttered, in a soft, quiet pillow voice don't fully register. Bakugou hums drunkenly at the back of his throat, struggling to get re-accustomed to speaking with Todoroki's taste still flooding his mouth. "Yeah?"

Only when the half-'n-half turns on his feet, his back suddenly the only part of him Bakugou can make out in the semi-dark garden, does realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I'll see you in September, Bakugou. Have a good summer."

"Hang the fuck on, princess!"

He knows he sounds a lot like a drowning man crying for a lifeline at the moment, but he honestly can't find it in himself to give a shit. His arms lay flat at his sides, shoulders hunched under the weight of the implication that just sunk in.

Finally, _finally_ they're getting somewhere, and now he probably won't be seeing Todoroki till next term. This is fucking bullshit, really.

Bakugou grits his teeth, digging holes into icyhot's stupidly broad back. "This all I get?"

It gets possibly worse when Todoroki turns around. His lips look delectably pink from all the eating each other's faces off they engaged in, and his eyes are still a tad brighter than their usually dull shade. It's just a little bit breathtaking, and Bakugou flares up like a firecracker – hell, he could probably conjure one himself with how much his palms are sweating.

"I'll tell you what." Todoroki cocks his head to the side, and Bakugou really wants to chew it right off his neck for daring patronize him now of all moments, but, oh, hell, whatever. "When we get back to school next term, I'll fight you. For real, no holding back this time. Settle the score. How does that sound?"

Now Bakugou Katsuki, as has been established multiple times before, is not stupid. He can tell when he's been thrown a bone, and doesn't normally take well to being played with. It's just that Todoroki's is one hell of a pretty bone.

 _Damn him._

He 'tch'es around a smirk, gnawing the inside of his cheek. He supposes a nice rough tumble on the tatami is what they both will need after six weeks apart, even though that which Todoroki's suggesting is not exactly the kind of tumble Bakugou would care to prioritize at the moment. "Sounds like you've got yourself a deal, Halfie."

Todoroki gives a small nod, his eyes lingering on Bakugou's face mere seconds longer than necessary before he turns and walks away for real this time.

The Heights Alliance garden is silent again, save for the nearly inaudible murmur that leaves Bakugou's lips only to dissipate into the still night air.

"Have a good summer, dumbass."

* * *

They're waiting for their respective rides down in the hall, luggage ready at their feet. Bakugou is feeling particularly well-rested, despite the amount of thrashing about he had to endure before sleep finally claimed him. It's nice outside, not too hot nor blustery like last week, and the shitty nerd left earlier this morning with his overprotective ma (who insisted on hugging him in front of the school gates, which was frankly quite pathetic and furtherly lifted Bakugou's spirits), so the level of general annoyance around him is all in all tolerable.

"Well, someone's in a good mood!"

Famous last words.

Bakugou turns to glare at the godforsaken dynamic duo popped out of nowhere right beside him, all flashy smiles and offending hair colors.

Kaminari whistles, one arm casually flung over Kirishima's shoulders. "Not just any someone – you sure you're alright, Blasty? Never heard you sing before. Pretty much thought your vocal chords would be good for nothing other than yelling and growling or – "

"What in the name of fuck are you on about, shithead?"

"You've been humming to yourself, bro." Kirishima helpfully supplies, his elbow digging into Kaminari's side for good measure. Babysitting the loud-mouthed asshole must be a full-time job, Bakugou reckons. "Which is totally fine and manly, you know!" The redhead adds hastily, toothy grin morphing into a scarily thoughtful expression. "That's a nice tune, too. Wait, have I heard it before?"

All feelings of calm contentment deserting him just like that, Bakugou stiffens, every muscle in his upper body tensing visibly.

"Yeah, sounds familiar. Think it was someone's ringtone." Pikachu chirps up, brows pushed together in the mind-boggling effort to remember a crucial piece of information. "Whose though?"

Bakugou opens his mouth to rip the pair of fuckers a new one, because, seriously, there's no way he was _humming_ or anything equally disgraceful, and even if that was the case (which it wasn't) how is it manly to listen in on other people's private moments – but he never gets any of that out, because of one single syllable Shitty Hair utters, understanding suddenly dawning on him.

"Oh."

 _Crap._

They exchange glances, Bakugou wordlessly promising a world of pain should the redhead disclose his newly acquired personal insight, and Kirishima instantly catches on, babbling something about forgetting his gel upstairs and could Kaminari please come along?, 'cause he really, really can't do without for the whole summer.

Red Riot – Bakugou snorts to himself as the two pests disappear upstairs, a puzzled Drooly moaning out loud and sending him questioning looks from afar – was always on the sharp side for a clueless tool.

* * *

 **A/N:** ****** Sorry if this chapter feels a bit shorter than the rest, I couldn't really decide where to cut this time. As usual, big shut-out to everyone reading and reviewing this!

Next: an eventful summer and back to school. Cultural festival arc inc! ******


	11. Chapter 11

****A/N:** SPOILERS for the manga, I guess.

Other than that: yay, still not dead! Real life keeps claiming me, as it does, and I got a new full-time job and all, so, there you go. Not that it matters, because nothing, oh, nothing will get in the way of me writing this fic. Stay assured.

Thanks to all of my amazing readers and reviewers :3 enjoy. ******

* * *

Over the summer, Bakugou has his first non-self-induced orgasm.

It's not something he'd planned, to be honest. Recent past events had been more than enough to keep his libido entertained while he got himself off to memories of eager tongues and strong forearms. Or so he'd thought, at least until the night in late July when his idiotic self-appointed squad drag him out celebrate Pinky's and Tape's birthdays.

Alcohol tolerance, Bakugou finds out that night, is not something a bunch of sixteen-year-olds should be lying about, especially since none of them is anywhere near of drinking age yet. But stupid ass Drooly had been endlessly ranting about the unquestionable perks of having a distant cousin working at some club or another, to the point where even usually level-headed Kirshima had given in to the pestering and almost apologetically told Bakugou, whose eyebrows had arched dangerously at the mention of illegal drinking, "Well, it is supposed to be a party…"

So they wind up at this somewhat fishy late bar (Bakugou reckons a certain level of fishiness is to be expected from a place willing to serve booze to the likes of Kaminari Denki) with loud music drowning out Kirishima's attempts at idle chatter, while birthday boy and girl have one toast too many and crawl off to the dance floor on wobbly legs. For some reason Bakugou can't even begin to fathom, Grapey Creep tagged along, which keeps Kaminari from joining the dances right away in favor of a, as Mineta put it, _preliminary pussy recon_ to supposedly increase their chances of talking some poor tipsy girl into snogging the pair of losers.

The four of them are sitting at the bar, Bakugou gingerly nursing his first and last drink of the night, when it happens.

"Wh-Whoa, check _that_ out, man! Certified top tier!"

"Who, skanky blonde?"

"Nah, that's too cheap even for you – ginger in the low-cut top?"

Drooly's eyes follow Grapey Perv's to the center of the dance floor, not far from where Pinky and Frog Mouth are making fools of themselves with their – is that partner belly dancing? "Ooooooh, I see that now."

The alarming level of interest in Kaminari's tone seems to persuade Kirishima that it's time to be the voice of reason. A very weak, slightly slurred voice of reason. "Guys, do you seriously think it's a good idea to try and pick up some random girl in a night club?"

"What do you mean _try_ , you total buzzkill?" Mineta shakes his messy head, outraged. "Li'l angel over there clearly wants a piece of Sexy 'n Sticky me…"

"Yeah, she just doesn't know it yet." Sparky snorts over his drink.

"What the heck is wrong with you guys? She was just looking this way!" The bite-size sex fiend squirms on his stool, pointing at something unspecified somewhere on the dance floor. "See?!"

Kaminari frowns. "She's…"

"Hate to break this to you, man," Shitty Hair says in a tone that sounds way more amused than sympathetic, "but it's not your charm she's after."

Here's when Kaminari heavily dropping one hand on his shoulder wakes Bakguou – who's been toying with his straw while silently planning to ditch these freaks soon – from his reverie. "Looks like you're up, man!"

 _Huh?_

"Get the fuck off me, moron." Bakugou bites back, more out of habit than anything else. He all but recoils in horror when blondie hugs him, a petulant whine leaving his lips.

"C'mon Blasty, she's eating you alive! If you ain't gonna do this for yourself, at least do it for us. Live out the dream."

Granted, Bakugou pushes the clingy shit off and throws a couple expletives in the middle, for good measure. The little queasy show inevitably piqued his interest though, and he casts a quick look to the girl in question – who is, true to Drooly's words, staring quite intently.

"It's fine if you don't feel like… pursuing that, Bakugou. You know, right?" Kirishima sounds so hesitant it would strike as uncharacteristic, if Bakugou didn't know his oddly protective friend like the back of his hand by now.

Of course it's fucking fine. And why wouldn't it be. No one tells Bakugou Katsuki what to do, least of all these sex crazed maniacs he keeps around god knows why.

But maybe, just maybe, he could give this a try. Give _a girl_ a try.

Truth is, Bakugou's sexual experience pretty much starts and ends with ice prince Todoroki Shouto – and they haven't even, like, _done_ anything. Nor does it look like they will anytime in the near future, since Todoroki hasn't called or texted once since school ended. And maybe, just maybe, Bakugou is peeved. He would never admit this to a living soul, but he was – had been? – sort of expecting… what was he expecting again? Todoroki is not one for social interactions. Hell, the guy doesn't even have a Facebook profile, and who the fuck can say the same these days. And yes, thank you very much, Bakugou knows he could have been the one to pick up the phone. That he hasn't, despite the obscene number of times he's found himself tapping their LINE chat open, somehow only adds to the bitterness his oversweet peach drink can't quell.

She has nice hair, he supposes. Not quite the right shade of red, but –

 _What the fuck._ He scolds himself, face scrunched up in a foul scowl (that does nothing to deter the pretty ginger from _eating him alive_ ). Since when there's such thing as a right shade of red. And who hits on a girl for their hair anyway?

He's fairly sure he doesn't want to know the answer to that.

Then the oh-so-subtle ogle fest (featuring Grapes's repeated shrieks of _no way, Bakugou, stay back you scary monster, that's my future wife you're staring at_ ) goads the girl into action, and next thing he knows whatshername is sauntering towards them, eyes fixed on what there's no doubt now is her prey.

 _Dream on, sweetheart._

This close, Bakugou can see she's wearing too much make-up, probably in the effort to look older and sophisticated or some shit. But her hair is indeed nice, and so's her smile, and she actually makes Bakugou snort in approval when she pours a whole bucket of ice over the sleazy midget's head for trying to sneak a peek under her skirt.

How it goes from that to him standing in a bathroom stall with his pants to his ankles, Bakugou honestly can't recall. What he does remember is the feel of that dyed mouth wrapped tight around his cock, and the porn-like sounds filling the room Bakugou is pretty sure are only partly his own. It ends a bit too quickly for him not to be avoiding whatshername's eyes afterwards, but she looks perfectly pleased with herself and even pecks Bakugou goodnight when they get back to the others.

The worst part of it all is, predictably enough, Pikachu and Grapes not shutting up about it to Black Eyes and Tape the whole bus ride home, while Kirishima just gives him this long, funny look – as if anything (or anyone) Bakugou does is his business anyway.

He wonders what it would feel like to have Todoroki blow him in a public toilet, only to mentally kick himself right after. Who needs the stuck-up halfshit when the world is brimming with cute girls dying to get their hands – and mouths – on Bakugou.

He still checks his LINE before going to sleep, just because.

* * *

(It's exactly twenty-three minutes into the first day of Yuuei new term that Bakugou spots Todoroki am-too-good-for-you Shouto.

The bastard even dares to wave hello at him, like Bakugou didn't want his fancy head on a plate right now – which, you know what, he really doesn't, because who the fuck cares, if ice dick thinks he can tongue Bakugou stupid and then ghost him all summer, whatever, it's not like Bakugou even noticed or anything.

This logic proves to be lamentably faulty when he finds himself glaring daggers at the disgustingly pretty idiot across the room, nitro crackling on his palms when Todoroki only smiles back at him with no apparent care in the world.

Tomorrow. He'll be the bigger man tomorrow.)

* * *

Except tomorrow is yet another day of Kaminari Denki and his impossibly large mouth being alive and roaming the earth, which inevitably leads to pain and destruction for any living soul around him.

They're sitting in the mess hall discussing this new cultural festival nuisance the school came up with to "cheer up" the poor wusses from the other classes who had to "face great hardship" because of Class A "standing out to the villains' attention". Which, if you ask Bakugou, is complete and utter crap and all the weaklings can go fuck themselves – but no one asks him, so, oh well.

He's suffering through Ears and Pikachu and Ponytail and Bird Guy spewing out idiotic proposals ( _brainstorming_ , they call it) on how to go about their music performance, when Shitty Hair approaches their table, ever-present grin baring his sharp teeth.

"Yo, band! Any good ideas so far?"

"Plenty, just none we can all agree on." Earplugs gives Bakugou a pointed dirty look that rolls right off his back.

"I still think we should have embraced my idea of a classical recital."

Bakugou rolls his eyes at the chesty pineapple. "No one wants to sit through your posh ass playing the piano for two goddamn hours. This bunch of wimps just won't say so to your face."

Probably thinking she's being so subtle or shit, Ears gives Kirishima a 'see what I have to put up with?' look, which the hardening hero replies to with a sigh. "I'm sure it'll come to you. Actually, Todoroki-kun and I were thinking..."

That sparks Bakugou's interest, much to his unvoiced chagrin.

"… wait, there he is! Todoroki-kun! Over here!" Kirishima waves gracelessly in the general direction of the entrance.

Sure enough, brazen-faced halfshit strolls casually towards them, completely missing Bakugou's menacing vibes telling him exactly how unwelcome he is to join the party. "Hey." he says in that stupid low, warm voice of his, and Bakugou sort of wants to kick him in the nuts and lick him dry at the same time.

"I was just pitching our idea to join forces for the performance." Kirishima explains, one arm draped across the back of Bakugou's chair as in – oh great, now he's being watched over by his unbelievably intrusive best buddy. For a split second Bakugou considers swatting the offending limb away and shouting that he needs no one fawning over him like he's a helpless maiden, but Todoroki picks that exact moment to lock eyes, and now, yeah, well, now Bakugou feels a bit more than a little helpless.

 _Fuck my life._

"Whadda you mean, join forces?"

"As the staging team, part of our job is to bring out the strongest points of the performers." Todoroki clarifies, tucking a rebel strand of strawberry hair behind his ear. Bakugou _hisses_. "We were wondering if you had any special request in terms of staging effects, props and so on."

"Bit tough to give you guys a heads-up when we're nowhere near deciding what we're gonna play." Earbuds comments dryly.

"Don't be a sourpuss, c'mon!" Pikachu give her his trademark puppy eyes Bakugou is thrilled not to be on the receiving end of for once. "There's a billion things we could do."

"I'm fine with anything, as long as it's deep and dark."

"Do you reckon we'll be allowed to use our Quirks?"

"I should think so. It is a hero school after all!"

Bakugou sighs, his temples twitching. What a despicable waste of his precious time. "Let's just blow stuff up. Everyone loves explosions."

His worthless classmates exchange worried looks at the prospect (Todoroki only arches an eyebrow noncommittally). Acknowledgment comes in the form of Kaminari clapping his hands together, suddenly ecstatic. "I could ask my cousin to lend me a few kegs for Bakuman to blast, so, even if it's destructive and all, at least it'll be raining beer!"

"What's gotten into you over summer? One night out and you turn into an alcoholic."

Jirou's snide remark catches Kirishima off guard. "You girls know about our summer celebration?"

"Mina invited us."

"I told 'em." Drooly replies at the same time, then seals his fate by goofily elbowing Bakugou in the side. "Just, not the spicy bits."

 _Oh, for the motherfucking love of fuck._

"Spicy what?"

Bakugou grabs a hold of Pikachu's bony arm and squeezes it once, code for _enjoy using this while it's still attached._

"Dun worry man, your secret's safe with me!" Is all the shitty reaction that gets him, Kaminari grinning unperturbed.

Luckily for him, second degree murder requires more dexterity than Bakugou can muster at the moment, his body effectively pinned to the seat by Todoroki's unwavering, curious stare.

If the half-'n-half also plans to ask something besides standing there doing his worst impression of a blind jellyfish, Bakugou will never know, Ponytail beating him to it.

"Bakugou has a secret?"

"Don't sound so intrigued, Momo. I bet little happened that night other than these dorks losing it after one beer and ending up hugging a toilet."

"FYI, the only one of us who ended up in a toilet was Lord Explosion Murder, here." Kaminari protests, too insulted by the jab at his manliness to make good on his secrecy oaths. "Though not really on his own."

Kirishima's eyes dart nervously around the table, possibly lingering on Todoroki's face just that extra second. His grip on Bakugou's chair tightens. "Denki, man, just shut up..."

"Why? It's a good thing – I mean, if it was me who hooked up with a total hottie in a club, I know I'd want to spread the word."

Then Bakugou is yanking Pikachu's arm _hard_ , twisting it behind his back and slamming him face down on the table, which mercifully distracts the electric moron enough to end this little gag and gets the others back on track with their brainstorming bullshit.

* * *

(Deep down, Bakugou knows he could have shut the big-mouthed pest up way sooner. Some petty part of him though really needed to see if Todoroki's perfect composure would crack at the mention of his first kiss getting it on with someone else behind his back.

It didn't, per se.

But – gone before anyone could notice and easily mistaken for mere surprise – a flicker of hurt had crossed those excruciatingly pretty eyes before they returned to their usual blankness.

Bakugou can live with flickers.)

* * *

Showtime comes, and surprisingly enough it's not a total fiasco.

And even if he ends up having to tell everyone how to play their goddamn instrument, because (as Bakugou has noticed before) his classmates are a bunch of good-for-nothing extras, somehow he still, well, doesn't completely hate the experience. There's this brief moment of bliss when he ad-libs this staccato piece like a real boss and Bird Freak actually follows after him so that the whole thing doesn't suck. And even if Earbuds shoots him a look so dirty it makes Pikachu slip up, Bakugou couldn't care less, because that's the closest he's been to mindlessly, simply happy in for-fucking-ever.

He even manages to forget about the icy asshole watching the show from the gallery, although he is reminded of his existence when a whirl of frosty flakes rises above the theater and flutters prettily around Navel's disco laser. Bakugou grunts at the 'ooh's and 'aah's coming from the audience – these peasants are so easily impressed it's sad, really – and goes particularly wild on a drum break that has the crowd cheering him on and forget all about Half-'n-Half's lousy circus stunt.

Dream boy may have the flashy Quirk and the centerfold face, but Bakugou is still the star of this goddamn show.

* * *

Later he will blame it on the aftermath euphoria, that rockstar-like feeling of being absolutely fucking invincible. 'Cuz when you're cool like that, what on earth could ever go wrong, right?

He bangs on Icicle's door, blood pumping through his veins like sizzling champagne, pupils blown wide in this natural kind of high that bathes everything in disconcerting clarity.

Bakugou wants – needs, he needs…

The door cracks open ever so slowly, one teal eye appearing in the narrow space between the wooden panel and the doorframe. Todoroki's left half fills Bakugou's vision, bright like a pool of fresh blood on the snow, and the bomber's mouth goes tragically dry.

"Let's fight." He still manages to utter, fully aware of the crazed glint that must be twinkling in his eyes right now.

Todoroki's answering gaze is heavy, opaque. "I was in bed, Bakugou."

"And now you're up, so fight me." The blonde bites back, his tone made vicious by the force of such watertight logic. "You – " _promised_ " – owe me."

"I didn't think you'd still be interested."

Bakugou can read it clear as daylight across Todoroki's hardening features – the flicker, that godawfully marvelous flicker of pain that's been there since Sparky spilled the beans in the cafeteria, now returning full force, shrouded in unvoiced contempt.

Tonight is a night for dancing though, and no one is going to take this dance away from him.

"You gonna chicken out, that's a lame ass excuse to do it."

His snide remark does the trick. Bakugou has to suppress the urge to smirk when Todoroki's competitive streak comes to the surface, mismatched eyes narrowing reflexively. "Give me a minute." Pretty boy grunts in the end, pulling back from the doorway just enough for Bakugou to catch a glimpse of the fancy classical interior. He instinctively moves to follow, drawn like a moth to the flame, but Half-'n-Half hastily slams one hand against the jamb, cutting him off. "I'll see you on the training ground."

 _This how it's gonna be, huh?_

Partly mesmerized by Todoroki's compliance despite himself, Bakugou mumbles a gruff "Fucking move it" and stalks off, heart thumping against his ribcage.

* * *

Ground Beta. Where he last wiped the floor with that worthless, pathetic excuse for legacy All Might chose in a pitiful lapse of judgement.

Bakugou prays iceberg hottie will at least give him a run for his money.

He's pleased to notice Todoroki has changed out of his pajamas, although he's not wearing his hero costume like Bakugou would deem appropriate given the magnitude of his opponent. Thick red bangs falling to hide the scar tissue under his eye (Bakugou can't help but wonder if he's growing it for this exact purpose), Todoroki gets into his fighting stance, legs slightly bent at the knees, and rasps out uninterestedly: "Are we going to start anytime soon?"

Bakugou grins so wide he almost strains his cheeks, hot spit gathering at the corner of his mouth. "I don't see no 5th November shit surrounding you yet, shortcake. You think you can half-ass this fight like you did at the sports festival, you better think again."

He's only halfway through his threat when flames erupt from Todoroki's right side. "If you're done talking."

The grin falters.

Then Bakugou is dashing forward, explosions propelling him as he obliterates the distance between them. He's barely raised his right fist in a fake attempt to strike when a thick slab of ice breaks out from underneath his feet, rising to shield its wielder. Bakugou wastes no time bouncing back, one hand breaking the fall while the other fires a bolt of calculated power directly against the icy wall. Which doesn't outright melt like it used to in the old days, but does begin to collapse around the edges.

Before he can make out Todoroki's form through the thinning ice, a fierce tongue of fire lashes out from behind the transparent screen, running over the ground to lick at where Bakugou is crouching.

Simultaneous Quirks and decoy tactics. _Someone's been training._

Nitro crackling on his palms, Bakugou leaps to his feet just in time to avoid the hems of his pants catching fire and deftly blasts a bolt through a clenched fist. His high-precision, minimum collateral move. This time it pierces right through what's left of the icy barrier, Todoroki barely sidestepping to dodge.

When their eyes meet over the smoke, Pretty Boy's are ablaze.

Bakugou feels the crotch of his pants tighten uncomfortably. "Thought you were the only one making headway?"

Todoroki doesn't even dignify that with an answer. The idiot just stands there, a circle of flames now surrounding him, high and supposedly threatening, while ice encloses his right side from hip to shoulder.

"What's that, your ultimate defense ninja trick?" Bakugou scoffs derisively, shifting subtly to hide the growing bulge in his nether regions. "Fucking come at me, _junior_."

There's more than an ounce of deliberate malice in the way he stresses the last word, Todoroki's eyes instantly darkening as on cue. And it's not like Bakugou has got anyone but himself to blame for Endeavor rising to the number 1 spot, but the thrill of messing with Halfie's head is a bit too much to pass up on. Not when it's so fucking hard to get a rise out of the guy without stooping below the belt.

 _Now, that's an interesting picture._

All lewd thoughts are gone in a flash when Todoroki makes his move, ice acting as a firebreak to carve a frozen path amid the flames. Bakugou braces himself.

The bastard rides the icy board at considerable speed. It's nowhere near enough to catch Bakugou off guard, obviously. His fist aims downward, the explosion all but annihilating the freezing ground – Todoroki jumps down, flames devouring everything from his arm to his eyes, two seconds before they're scrunched tight.

The impact leaves Bakugou with a charred t-shirt, but at least his feet are not trapped under the rubbles.

Then Todoroki coughs, and Bakugou sees red.

Forgetting all about keeping a safe distance from a potentially deadly enemy, he lunges forth, hands fisting into the front of Todoroki's shirt as he pulls the shithead into a sitting position. The scene is so reminiscent of the festival's final he wants to throw up.

"Why _the fuck_ would you close your eyes, asshole? You wanna die?"

Todoroki breaks one leg free from the chunks of concrete, coughs shaking through his core. His body is _seething_ , Bakugou realizes, dozens of micro cuts breaking the otherwise even surface of the skin. This sure does not look like something the crash could do.

"The hell did you – ?"

"It's just the steam. It still gets to me sometimes, when I switch too rapidly." Todoroki swats the blonde's hand off, voice hoarse, eyes glossy. "I lost focus."

Bakugou growls, fists clenching helplessly by his sides as the other boy smoothens his crumpled shirt. "Yeah, like fuck you did." He replays the scene in his head, Half-'n-Half readying himself for the blow he must have known would leave at least a minor burn on his opponent – then closing his eyes and crashing to the side, his flames merely brushing past Bakugou as the dual hero landed back first into the side façade of a nearby building.

Rage creeps up his spine and settles in the pit of his stomach, making him sick. "You will never beat me, halfshit. Wanna know why?"

Todoroki doesn't seem particularly interested in the answer, eyes never looking up as he struggles to free his other leg. Bakugou won't have that.

He rests his full weight against the other's chest, a dry 'oomph' leaving Todoroki's throat as he's shoved back into the debris. Bakugou pries the other's thighs apart and grinds down, his ridiculously throbbing hardness pressed flush against Todoroki's own groin.

"What are you – ?"

"Because you're _soft_."

He punctuates the words with a roll of his hips, visions going blurry with pleasure when Todoroki hisses, head thrown back to expose that gorgeous, sinful neck.

 _Gotta taste it._

He leans in slowly, breath coming out of his lips in quiet pants as his nose gently grazes the pale skin below Todoroki's jaw.

"Bakugou…"

His own name rings in his ears unregistered. There's a light sheen of sweat on the right side of icyhot's neck, the scent going straight to Bakugou's dick.

"… your heart is racing."

Todoroki places a hand on his hip, thumb digging into his pelvis, and Bakugou _whimpers_.

Then he's being pushed away forcefully, the sharp pain in his belly all the warning he gets before their positions are reversed. Ice spreads at lightning speed from the point where Todoroki touched him, encasing his body up to his shoulders before Bakugou can even make sense of the sudden change.

Todoroki's lips are drawn in a firm line as he looks down. Steely eyes contemplate the frozen coffin before them, not one hint of emotion behind glaring irises. "Who's soft now?"

With that he stands up, farther out of Bakugou's reach than the icy prison alone is responsible for.

* * *

(Later that night, as he's rutting desperately against the bed sheets, Bakugou moans out Shouto's name over and over. He hopes that maybe, if he's loud enough, Todoroki will hear him and come join.

The sound of restless pacing from the room above tells him everything he needs to know.

Bakugou can't remember the last time his climax hit so hard.)


End file.
